


It Never Goes Away

by Jotun_Half_Breed



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Lucius Malfoy, Angst, BAMF Draco Malfoy, BAMF Luna Lovegood, Bellatrix Lestrange Has a Daughter, Bisexual Harry Potter, Death Eater Trials, Developing Relationship, Draco Malfoy Has a Sibling, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gay Theodore Nott, Ginny Weasley is a Good Friend, Good Death Eaters, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Happy Ending (Hopefully), Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Express, Homophobia, Jealous Ron Weasley, Lesbian Hermione Granger, Love, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, M/M, Panic Attacks, Peppermint Toads, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Slytherins, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Werewolf Discrimination, Werewolf Theodore Nott
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jotun_Half_Breed/pseuds/Jotun_Half_Breed
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco is broken. His family is torn apart. He can barely make it through the day without having a panic attack. The last thing he wants to do is return to Hogwarts for his Eighth Year, but he doesn't really have a choice does he?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Theodore Nott, Hermione Granger/Original Female Character(s), Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 99
Kudos: 361
Collections: Drarry Fics





	1. The War is Over

The Dark Lord was dead. All around Draco, people laughed and cried and rejoiced. The body had been moved to a chamber off the hall and Draco silently applauded the individuals brave enough to touch it. He certainly couldn’t have. He raised a trembling hand to brush away a treacherous tear that was sliding down his cheek. He knew people were watching him; some of their laughter was aimed in his direction, their stares boring holes in the top of his head. He couldn’t care less anymore. Laughter was the least of his worries. He was a Death Eater, now wholly at the mercy of his conquerors. Draco shuddered, pressing his spine against the hard stone wall behind him, raising his eyes to sweep carefully over the room. He pulled his knees tight to his chest, balancing his chin on top of them. The fallen were still laid along the centre of the hall, eyes closed or unseeing, weeping friends laying over them. A knot of guilt tightened in Draco’s stomach.

A pair of bright green eyes pierced his and he froze. Potter. Potter was looking at him.

His eyes widened and he shied back further.

Potter was saying something to Weasley. Potter was shaking his head. Potter was walking towards him. Potter was going to kill him. Potter was going to finish what he started.

A figure stepped out in front of him, facing the Golden Boy. Theodore Nott narrowed his eyes and jerked his head in Potter’s direction. His voice was soft, showing very little emotion as he stared him down. “You’ve done enough, Saviour. The war is over. You won. You should be celebrating.”

Potter hesitated before moving back to his admirers, running a hand through his hair, an easy smile drifting back onto his face. Draco buried his eyes in his knees, shoulders shaking, ignoring the stern gaze his father would have given him for crying in public. Theo slid down against the wall, his shoulder brushing Draco’s.

“Dray,” he whispered, gently putting his arms around his waist and pulling Draco onto his lap. “It’s going to be ok, dragon. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Draco pressed his face into Theo’s neck, breathing in his familiar scent. He smelled like lavenders, something Draco had always been quick to tease him on in the past, but not today. Not today, when the only thing keeping him from losing his head completely was Theo’s unwavering presence. Theo’s lips pressed against Draco's temple, his fingers swimming through Draco’s hair, his free arm wrapped around Draco’s waist. Salty tears meandered down Theo’s neck, but he didn’t wipe them away. He hummed into Draco’s temple, kissing him gently.

The blonde clutched at the other boy’s collar, carefully raising his head and nuzzling Theo’s cheekbone. “I’m sorry, Theo,” he breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

Theo smiled sadly, hearing the hidden meaning in Draco’s words. “I know, dragon. We both are, but people don’t forgive so easily, do they?”  
He stroked Draco’s thigh watching the tears clinging to Draco’s sharp chin. Draco started shaking again, his grip on Theo tightening desperately.

“Vincent,” he choked. “He’s dead, Theo. Potter left him to the Fiendfyre. He saved me instead. He should have… He’s gone, Theo.” He let out a retching sob and buried his face back into Theo’s shoulder, his body trembling. His tears stained Theo’s shirt, but the boy’s calm facade didn’t fall.

Theo kissed the top of Draco’s ear, whispering, “you deserved to be saved, Dray. Do you hear me? You deserve to live.” Draco didn’t give any indication that he had heard and Theo sighed, shaking his head and wrapping his arms around him. “It’s ok, Draco. This is going to work out. It’s going to-”

A group of Aurors moved across the room in a silent wave of cloaks and grim expressions and Theo froze, going silent.

“Mr Nott, Mr Malfoy, we are going to ask you once and only once: come quietly and no one will get hurt.”

Potter was watching again, his brow furrowed and his arms crossed, but he didn’t try to step in. Draco had stilled, tears forgotten and left to soak into his cheeks. His expression was unreadable. Having the Dark Lord living in his house had taught him how to close his mind to intrusion.

Theo smiled weakly at the lead Auror and nodded carefully. “We’ll come quietly, sir.” His attention quickly returned to Draco. “Dray, I need you to let go of me so I can give the Aurors my wand.”

Draco gazed at him incredulously but didn’t argue when Theo took him carefully by the hips and rearranged him into his earlier position with practiced care. He looked back at the Aurors inclining his head slightly.

“May I stand?”

He received a curt nod in response and slowly inched into a standing position, pressing his hands into dark hair, his gaze flickering over the suddenly silent room.

“It’s in the inside pocket of my cloak,” he deadpanned. “On my right-hand side.”

He didn’t even flinch as he was swarmed, his wand manhandled from inside his open cloak. He remained still, allowing two Aurors to take ahold of his shoulders with vice-like grips that must have hurt more than he was letting on. The remaining Aurors turned to Draco, who faced them stonily.

“I don’t have a wand.”

One of them laughed cruelly. “You expect us to believe you? Get up!”

Hands grabbed him roughly before he could comply and he was thrown to his feet. Two others reached for him and he stumbled back in fright, seeing masked Death Eaters instead of Aurors, mouths incanting Unforgivables instead of firmly closed lips. He fell into Theo’s arms, pressing himself into his side and Theo hugged him gently.

“Do as they say, Draco,” Theo whispered, glancing at the Aurors. “Please.”

Again, Draco didn’t argue with his housemate, but he stayed close to Theo as they checked him for weapons and, as he had expected, came up clean. He didn’t struggle as they were bound and pulled apart, moving towards the great double-doors and into the entrance hall. His body was limp, his legs dragging as he walked through the grounds and he could barely raise his head. He was going to Azkaban, he was sure of it. He was going to join his fellow murderers and he was going to rot. He was going to die there.

“Malfoy!” He froze, the Aurors stopping in their tracks as Potter ran towards them.

He couldn’t look at him, but he could feel those green eyes burning into him. Potter ignored Theo completely, stopping in front of Draco, his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Finally, he straightened and Draco raised his eyes slightly to show that he was listening.

“Are you going to be ok?”

Draco raised an eyebrow, smiling ruefully. He stared at Potter, searching for some small hesitation, some small proof that he was being mocked, but found none. Of course, Saint Potter with his ‘Saving People Complex’ wanted to help him now. He hadn’t so much as lifted a finger during their sixth year, but now, when he was no longer in danger, Potter wanted to save him, to make himself look good. Saviour of the Wizarding World, through and through.

“I’ll see you at the trial, Potter,” he whispered in a dead, cracked voice.

And then they turned on the spot and he was sucked into suffocating darkness.


	2. The Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll see you at the trial, Potter,” he whispered in a dead, cracked voice.
> 
> And then they turned on the spot and he was sucked into suffocating darkness.
> 
> 1 Month Later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait. Please forgive me!!! Thanks for the kudos. Hope you enjoy this update!

He was awoken by the feeling of a muggle outfit being thrown at his face. The month spent in the cells below the Ministry of Magic had not been easy on him. He was jumpy now, flinching at the slightest noise or gesture. He hissed, uncurling on the floor, raising his gaunt features to stare at the two Ministry officials, not knowing what could make his day worse than having to change in front of them.

“Hurry up, scum! You wouldn’t want to be late for your own trial.”

Oh, yes. That. He tried to ignore the officials’ presence, dragging his weak body up against the wall of his cell, taking the outfit in his arms. They were soft to the touch, the jeans clean and the t-shirt free of rips. He sniffed the shirt cautiously before slipping off his own and exchanging it for the new one. He turned away from the two intruders, changing pants hurriedly, pulling on the skinny pair of jeans that still managed to hang off his slender form, rubbing uncomfortably against his knees. He hadn’t received a new pair of shoes, so he pulled on his old ones from where they had been discarded in the corner. 

“Come on!” One of the men barked and he flinched, hurriedly folding his old clothes into a neat pile in the corner, causing a cascade of sniggers. 

He glowered. It wasn’t his fault he had been brought up to keep his space clean. The door snapped open and he staggered, his legs weak from lack of use and lack of energy. The two officials caught him and he leaned against them, breathing heavily to hold back a whimper, allowing them to lead him through the corridors into the courtroom. Seats stood in rows, looking down upon a forbidding-looking chair in the centre. The room was packed, hurried whispers disturbing the silence as his eyes swept over the offenders’ faces. His mother and father sat side by side, their hands intertwined on the bench between them. Narcissa Malfoy was as unreadable as usual, but her husband wasn’t doing as good a job at hiding his nerves. He squeezed her hand a bit too tightly to be considered normal. The two Aurors led him away from his parents to the other side of the room where his aunt Andromeda sat, a baby held in one arm, sleeping, and a three-year-old girl leaning her blonde head of hair against her shoulder. On seeing him, Andromeda smiled weakly, a gesture that surprised him, but the little blonde girl jumped to her feet with a shriek of delight and charged into his arms.

“Draco!” She smiled up at him as he kissed her forehead. “Are you coming home now? Will you come home with me and Andy and Teddy?”

He glanced up at Andromeda who was watching him sadly as their audience murmured bitterly. He gazed from the Aurors behind him to the glares of the crowd and finally, his eyes fell upon Potter’s. Potter, who had come to his trial. Who gazed at him unperturbed, curiosity etched all over his face. Draco forced himself to look back at his sister, stroking her cheek gently.

“No, Ella,” he croaked, his voice coming out far too weak for his liking. “I’m not going home now.”

“Why not?” She pulled away and stamped her foot angrily.

“I can’t.”

The little girl glared at him for a second, then turned, directing her gaze at Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister for Magic. “I want my brother back!”

Draco’s eyes widened and he pulled Ella towards him as the shouting started. She struggled as he pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to her ears. “Stop, Ella,” he pleaded. “Please, stop. You don’t get a say in this. Please don’t make it worse.”

Ella finally slackened and buried her face in his neck, wiping tears into his skin. Aurors shouted for silence and Kingsley Shackbolt let out a booming growl that fully justified them making him Minister for Magic. He lowered his gaze to the two of them. Draco flinched, averting his eyes quickly.

“Be seated Draco,” Shacklebolt gestured towards the space beside Andromeda. “We are still waiting for the last few members of the Wizengamot.”

“Yes, sir,” he whispered, staggering to sit beside his aunt, still holding his sister close, purposefully avoiding his parents’ haughty looks.

He couldn’t meet Andromeda’s eye either. His mother had told him about her, though always in whispered tones, far from his father’s ear. Narcissa had loved her sister, but Andromeda Black had married a muggleborn, a sin which got her name burned from the family tree. She was the disgraced sister. And yet, out of the three of them, she was the only one neither dead nor facing imprisonment.

Ella got off his lap, sliding onto the seat on his other side, her white-blonde hair resting against his arm. He glanced at her. Poor thing. She had no idea what was going on.

Andromeda’s fingers slid through his hair affectionately and he flinched, but after a moment it became obvious that the action wasn’t malevolent. He closed his eyes, willing the tears to remain hidden behind his eyelids. Andromeda clasped his hand.

“It’s going to be ok, Draco.” He opened his eyes, watching her warily. “We’re on your side.”

He scoffed, but he didn’t pull his hand away. The feel of another person’s skin on his was too precious to discard. Andromeda, unphased by his reaction, caressed his palm tentatively, humming under her breath. Her fingers were warm and soft, nothing like Draco had known before. Even during his early childhood, he couldn’t remember a time when his parents had treated him with such care and loving tenderness. Sure, Severus had been similar, but not the same. Never the same, with his parents so close, with his parents pulling them apart. Draco was sure that his father had always regretted the day he made Sev godfather, but it was too late for that now. His godfather was dead.

The door slid open and Hermione Granger entered, dragging a red-faced, battered-looking Ronald Weasley. Draco instinctively pulled Ella closer.

“Draco,” Ella whined. “Who are they?”

He gritted his teeth as they moved closer. “Granger and Weasley.”

“Oh,” Ella bit her lip. The pair swept past and as they did, Ella reached up and tugged on Granger’s robes. “Hello!”

Before Draco could react, Weasley pulled out his wand, pointing it at Ella’s face. He looked slightly made then, grief and fury etched all over his face. Draco flinched and Andromeda stiffened beside him. Ella, however, was unfazed. 

“Your hair is really pretty, miss Granger,” she smiled.

Granger looked slightly taken aback, glancing between her and Draco as though they were a particularly difficult exam question. However, the Minister’s booming voice interrupted her silent musings.

“Mr Malfoy, the court is now in session. Please, take your seat.”

Draco hesitated for only a fraction of a second before letting go of Ella and pulling himself to his feet, winding his way between his old school enemies and climbing down the stairs to the middle of the room. He slid into the chair, stiffening as the chains wound tight around his wrists. He raised his eyes to the podium and waited.

“Please state your name.” Shacklebolt’s voice was neither cruel nor unkind.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy.” His voice quivered, but he forced himself to meet the Minister’s eye. The reporters were clamoring excitedly, as though this was an exciting new piece of evidence. Draco forced himself not to roll his eyes.

“Mr Weasley, please state the charges.”

Draco moved his gaze towards the other man. Percy Weasley looked like he had slept even less than Draco over the past few weeks, but he cleared his throat and spoke distinctly. 

“The accused is charged with the bearing of the Dark Mark. How does he plead?”

“Guilty,” Draco whispered, glancing at his left forearm, wondering if the damned thing would ever come off. Probably not.

A flurry of whispers murmured through the court but was quickly silenced as Weasley spoke again.

“The attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore.”

Draco flinched. “Guilty.”

“Harboring He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in your house.”

At this, Draco hesitated. “It…” If he didn’t say anything he would be doomed to Azkaban. “It wasn’t exactly my house to open up to him. Really it was Bella -Bellatrix- who invited him. I just paid the consequences for it. You don’t know how hard it is to feign normalcy when Fenrir Greyback is hiding in every dark corner, ready to jump out and grab you. H - How hard it is to get a decent night’s sleep when anyone could come in and torture you, just for fun.”

He forced himself to stop. He had said enough. The room was completely silent but for the scratching of quills. And so, the charges were recommenced.

“The use of one or more of the Unforgivables.”

“Guilty.”

“Allowing Death Eaters access to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and putting the lives of the students in danger.”

“Guilty.”

“Hiding knowledge regarding Death Eater activities.”

“Guilty.”

“Willingly participating in Death Eater activities throughout the Second War.”

How quickly they had moved on. They said this as though they were not fighting and dying side by side only a month previously.

“Not guilty.”

All eyes were drawn to him as he pleadingly stared at Shacklebolt who motioned for him to continue.

“I - I did those things. But never - never willingly.” The crowd muttered furiously, shooting him disbelieving glances and he raised his voice. “Voldemort threatened my mother. I will not apologise for sparing her from torture and death. I am guilty of caring about the wellbeing of my family. Since I last checked that isn’t a crime.”

“You mentioned that you felt unsafe at home,” Shacklebolt stated.

“Yessir,” he whispered. “Voldemort does that to people.”

“Did you discuss your fears with your father?”

Draco closed his eyes. Damn. He had dug himself into a hole too deep to climb back out of. “Briefly,” he muttered, not daring to glance in his father’s direction. 

“And what did he do to assuage those fears?”

He looked up at Shacklebolt imploringly, his jaw clenched. He could not say it, he could not.

“Draco,” the Minister said gently. “Please, answer the question.”

Draco gave a small nod, clenching his fists, forcing himself not to cry. “He -” His mask of indifference faltered. “He used the Cruciatus Curse on me.”

Shacklebolt hummed. “I see.” The man’s eyes moved carefully to the side of the room where both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy sat, frozen. “Are you a Voldemort supporter, Draco?” 

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not a psychopath. I - I’m not a killer.”

“And your mother?”

“I don’t think so. A true supporter wouldn’t lie to their master.”

Shacklebolt ran his fingers over the papers on his lap. “What about your father?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered in a cracked voice.

Shacklebolt nodded. “Before we take a break, is there anything else you would like to say.”

Draco shook his head. He was starting to feel slightly sick. Most of their audience had left the room, bringing their mutterings and their glares with them, but all Draco could think about was his own words, spoken in a moment of weakness.

_ ‘He used the Cruciatus Curse on me.’ _

His parents would never forgive him. Even if he had saved himself and his mother, which was unlikely, his father would not escape Azkaban. He had doomed him. He had doomed himself.

The crowd reentered the room and Draco was pulled to his feet. He hadn’t even noticed that the chains had released him. He stayed perfectly still, trying to regain control of his emotionless mask, as his mother and father were brought to stand next to him. His father’s hand twitched, brushing against the material of his shirt. Draco flinched, inching towards his mother instead. 

Lucius’ words were for Draco, and Draco alone. “They will never believe you. Whatever happens next, they will always know what you really are. Speak now or forever hold your peace, traitor.”

Draco shuddered and forced his gaze to remain firmly upon the Minister.

‘What had they told him? What had the witnesses said? Would he live long enough to find out?’ 

He didn’t know the answers to any of these questions. He had not been allowed to attend the rest of the trial. This was proving to be both a blessing and a curse.

Shacklebolt raised his head, nodding to a short, mousy haired witch at his side and then calling for the crowd’s attention. “With Draco’s testimony concluding the Malfoys’ trial, we have finally come to a decision. Lucius Malfoy will hereby spend seven years in Azkaban and a further three years under house arrest. His wand will be snapped and he will not be permitted to wield another.”

Lucius stiffened slightly, his fingers tightening painfully around Draco’s wrist. 

“Narcissa Malfoy -née Black- will hereby be placed under house arrest for two years with limited wand use. Aurors must supervise any excursions outside of Malfoy Manor.”

Narcissa didn’t give any indication that she had heard or cared. Her eyes swept over the crowd as though daring them to argue with the leniency of the sentencing.

“Draco Malfoy will be held under house arrest for two months until the start of the new school year. He will then return to Hogwarts to repeat his final year and complete his NEWTs. His wand will be Ministry Approved and he will have limited spell use outside of classes. After this, his future within the Wizarding World will be reevaluated.”

Draco’s eyes widened. The old Draco would have said something along the lines of, ‘just kill me now’. This was certainly at the forefront of his mind, but instead, he averted his eyes and nodded.

The crowd stood slowly and soon people were disapparating. Draco pulled his hand from his father’s grip, attempting to press against his mother, but she didn’t seem to notice his subtle plea for protection. She moved away from him, attempting to console his father. His heart broke slightly at this. His legs were shaking, the sharp taste of bile stinging his throat, the sharp ‘crack’ of people disapparating making his shudder. 

But, he was free. That must be something at least. He was free from the Dar - Voldemort, free from Azkaban and finally, he was free from his father. He didn’t intend to visit him in prison. He raised his head, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He was free.

Andromeda ran towards him, Teddy nestled safely in Potter’s arms, and Draco flinched as she neared him. Then, he was safely enclosed in her embrace, his face pressed into her chest, silent tears staining her blouse. Her fingers carded tenderly through his hair, reminding him painfully of Theo, her other hand holding him tight to her.

“It’s ok, Draco,” she smiled. “You did great. I’m so proud of you. We can go home now.”

He looked up at her, unsure as to why he had become so taken with her so quickly, but comforted by the idea of having her close. “You’re coming too?”

“Of course,” she smiled. “With your father in Azkaban, Cissy will need help adjusting and I would like to be there for you and your sister. It might not seem like it now, but things are going to get better.”

Lucius cleared his throat. “I am still here, Andromeda,” he glared. “And I will not have you coddling my children. There is still the Malfoy name to uphold.”

Andromeda ignored him, releasing Draco from her grip to allow him to be hugged fiercely by Ella. 

“Draco, can you come home now?” she pleaded.

Draco forced a smile onto his face, one that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Yes, Ella, we’re going home now. I can’t wait to see your room!”

Ella whooped and cheered, moving to hug Andromeda and Draco smiled a little wider, holding his facade of elation steady. But, deep down, all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and sob until his eyes dried out. Andromeda seemed to realise this, despite the facade, because she drew him a little closer and looked at Narcissa for the first time.

“Cissy, the children need to go home. They’ve been through enough.”

Narcissa’s nostrils flared. “You of all people, cannot say what is best for my…”

“I lost my daughter, my husband and my son-in-law to this war, Narcissa. You’re lucky I am here at all. You need to accept help where it’s offered, or you will not survive these next few years.” Her voice softened slightly. “I don’t want to fight with you, Cissy. I just want my sister back. Is that really too much to ask of you… after everything?”

Narcissa sagged. “You’re right. We need to go home.” She moved away from her husband, who watched her in disbelief as she tentatively wrapped her arms around her sister. 

When she stepped back, Ella waved to her shyly, her hair falling in front of her face. “Hi, mom.”

Narcissa smiled. “Hello, sweetheart.” She hesitated, looking at her son. “Draco,” she whispered, causing the boy to look up at her for the first time. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded once, lowering his eyes again. Andromeda smiled approvingly, before speaking quickly to Potter, taking her grandchild into her arms. Draco felt Aurors’ hands gripping his forearms and he welcomed the sensation as they fell into a choking darkness. Then he was kneeling on the floor of Malfoy Manor. The Aurors vanished as quickly as they had come and Draco broke down. All his barriers came down at once and he buried his face in his hands, sobs escaping his dry throat. He cried until he couldn’t breathe and his sobs became gasps, then slowly turning to whimpers. 

Something inside Draco was broken, shattered into tiny little pieces. The memories of Voldemort reared their snakey heads and sprung from every corner of the Manor. And Draco curled in on himself as he cried for every time he had wanted to and wasn’t able. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments if you liked it!


	3. Coffee and the Ugly Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something inside Draco was broken, shattered into tiny little pieces. The memories of Voldemort reared their snakey heads and sprung from every corner of the Manor. And Draco curled in on himself as he cried for every time he had wanted to and wasn’t able. 
> 
> Now, a Harry Potter POV chapter. This is the second last chapter before they head back to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Another chapter. Who would have thought. I'm getting better at speed-writing, so I will try to update more often. So here it is: Chapter 3.

“Are you going back to Hogwarts this year?” Hermione asked breezily, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled over them like fondant on a birthday cake.

Harry gave a small nod, his voice quiet and despite the lazy atmosphere of the muggle town they were strolling through, Hermione could barely hear his response. “I’d like to be able to pretend for one more year.” He trailed off, running a hand nervously through his hair.

Hermione watched him sadly for a moment, before nodding vigorously. “We need the chance to finish our education before going into the real world. I mean, there are loads of opportunities for us right now. You know Seventh Year offers apprenticeships and all sorts of careers advice. And I read in the Prophet that they are employing a team of mind healers to help with the aftermath of the war. I really think - ”

Harry cut her off harshly. “I’ve already said yes, Hermione. I don’t need you to try and convince me to go when I’m already going.” Hermione looked slightly startled and he sighed. “Sorry, I just… Can we not talk about this right now. I’m stressed enough as it is.”

She nodded quickly, as though she was scared he was going to start shouting at her and Harry felt a surge of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He bowed his head, forcing himself not to look at her expression as she pushed open the creaky gate and letting them walk into the playground. He couldn’t deal with her feelings, not now, not when he was having enough trouble with his own. The laughs and screams of muggle children filled the air around them. Disapproving parents standing by frowned at their children, calling out to them to ‘be careful’ and ‘not so fast’. A light scent of car fumes and pine needles hung over the scene almost purposefully, as though it was trying to remind him of the smoke and the Forbidden Forest. Harry could see a light smile playing over Hermione’s lips at the sight of the contained chaos, but every loud noise, every scream, every yell made him stiffen. To him, every laugh was high and cold, every scream a dying friend, every shriek a curse.

He allowed Hermione to lead him through the parent-approved warzone, forcing a small smile to Andromeda, who was sitting on a bench at the far end cradling a backpack on her lap, her eyes chasing the small blonde girl who was halfway across a rope bridge. She spotted them and waved.

“Harry, Hermione, it’s great to see you.”

Hermione glanced at Harry, who had to force himself to keep still. “We’re not staying here are we?”

“No, of course not,” Andromeda stood, her bright smile almost hiding her sleep-deprived features; the shadows under her eyes and her too-thin lips. Only as she straightened, did Harry notice what - or who - was missing.

“Where’s Teddy?”

“Ella, time to go!” Andromeda called, before answering Harry’s question. “Draco swapped with me. He is under the impression that I’d have heart failure if I had to babysit two little divas.”

“Why?” Harry asked, refusing to return her smile.

“Draco offered… and it might help him more than it’ll help me.” There was something in her voice that made Harry decide not to argue with her. He might not trust Malfoy with his godson, but he had to trust Andromeda. If he couldn’t trust her, then he would just spend every waking moment worrying.

The little blonde girl, whom he remembered from the trial, scurried over to them, bringing whatever conversation they might have had to an abrupt halt. “Hi!”

Harry gave her a weak smile, trying not to see the obvious similarities between her and her brother, Hermione making more of an effort of politeness with a little half-wave. Andromeda took Ella’s hand in her’s, swinging the rucksack over her shoulder. “We can talk over coffee,” she decided. “I know a nice place down the road from here.”

They escaped the claustrophobic crowds of the playground and moved swiftly through the empty streets. There were a group of teenagers lounging by a stream beside the path and Harry was forcibly reminded of the three of them - him, Ron and Hermione - sitting by the lake at Hogwarts in simpler times. They reached the stuffy cafe before any of them felt the need to speak. Andromeda ordered for the four of them and they slid into their seats in the corner by the window.

Andromeda made the introductions. “Ella, this is Harry. And you already know Hermione.”

The girl smiled shyly. “You were at the trial.”

Hermione glanced at Harry again, as though she was scared he would have a nervous breakdown and start singing in mermish, before nodding. “Yeah, we were.”

Ella leaned forward, balancing her elbows on the table. “You don’t like my brother very much.”

The honesty of the youth threw Hermione slightly, but when Andromeda didn’t interject, she answered carefully. “What makes you think that?”

She shrugged. “Your face. It went all scrunched up…” She demonstrated the expression. “And he was sad when you were there with the other boy. He got sad when I asked him about it too. Luna said he will get sad a lot because his soul is all hurt, but you make him sadder.”

Harry’s head jerked up with such speed that he cricked his neck. Rubbing it, he asked Andromeda, “Luna was at the Manor?”

Andromeda looked surprised by the question. “Yes. She didn’t tell you? She came to see how Draco was doing. She’s a nice girl. The two of them spend the whole day in the garden. Talking. She’s smart too. And funny. Whatever they talked about helped Draco a lot. I haven’t seen him so happy.”

Their coffees were set down in front of them and Hermione thanked the waiter, sipping at her’s tentatively to check it wasn’t too hot. Ella dipped her finger into her hot chocolate and licked up a marshmallow. “She told me all about how to get rid of wrackspurts.”

Harry sighed, trying to imagine Luna Lovegood explaining nargles and wrackspurts to the Malfoys. He couldn’t. “I haven’t seen Luna in ages. You said she’s at the Burrow a lot though. Right, Mione?”

“Hmm?” Hermione’s eyes were slightly out of focus, but she quickly snapped back to attention. “Oh, yeah. She barely leaves.”

Andromeda raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you staying at the Burrow, Harry?”

“Nope,” he shook his head quickly, trying to ignore the loud slurping sounds Ella was making with her drink. “Ginny and I broke up - or decided not to get back together - so I’ve been trying to give them some space.

Hermione snorted. “You’ve been moping around Grimmauld Place, avoiding reporters.”

Harry smiled weakly. “If only my fans could see me now. Harry Potter, the boy who moped.”

This led to a loud chorus of laughter that had the serving staff glaring at them. When they had finally calmed themselves, Andromeda sipped at her coffee, her eyes glittering. “If you ever get bored of moping, I can always give you a research project or two. I doubt you would want to visit me at the Manor, but I can always send them by owl.”

“What sort of research projects?”

“Oh, you know. How to get rid of bubotuber pus, how to teach my stubborn sister how to cook, how to distinguish between hate mail and normal mail.” Harry cringed slightly at this. “Speaking of which, do either of you know anything about Theodore Nott?”

“Yeah,” Harry said cautiously. “He was in our year. A Slytherin. He was with Malfoy after the Battle. They were taken away by the Aurors together.”

Andromeda paused, her cup halfway to her mouth. “I thought Lucius and Narcissa were with him.”

“Nope,” Harry grimaced. “I heard they were found in the owlery. And Nott’s parents both died in the Battle, so it was just the two of them.”

“You saw?”

Harry hummed noncommittally. “Malfoy wasn’t really all there and Nott was way too calm, especially when the Aurors came. I think he’s the reason they came quietly.”

“When did you see this?” Hermione tried to interrogate him.

He shrugged. “You had left to help with the cleanup.” He turned his attention back to Andromeda. “Why did you want to know anyway?”

“Draco’s been getting quite a few letters from him. He’s in Azkaban. He’s doing two years.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “That’s a lot for someone who’s only just come of age. I thought the people who joined when they were underage only got one year.”

“There was a lot of bias surrounding him before he even stepped into the courtroom. It’s not exactly something I can go into, but you should know you’re not the only one who’s angry. When Draco found out he didn’t leave his room for a week.”

“Enough about Malfoy,” Hermione snapped. “Malfoy deserved what he got. Nott wasn’t that bad. He wasn’t like the other Slytherins.”

“How do you know that?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“We - we met in the library during our Fourth Year. He was doing some project on the history of muggleborn Slytherins, but he helped me research for SPEW.” Harry gave her a sceptic look, but she plunged on. “He was polite. He was interested in my views. And he didn’t use derogatory slurs. The fact that he didn’t idolise Malfoy helped too. Once the git walked in on us making badges and Nott just had to raise an eyebrow and he left. It was pretty badass actually.”

Harry raised an eyebrow suggestively. “You sure you weren’t doing more than just studying?”

Hermione blushed crimson. “Of course we weren’t. Stop giving me that look, we weren’t!”

“Sure,” he grinned, earning himself a hard glare from his friend.  
Their banter was interrupted by a whistling sound that seemed to be coming from Andromeda’s watch. She tapped it quickly, muting the high-pitched sound before it could attract the attention of the muggles nearby. She turned back to them. “I have to go. I’m visiting Azkaban in an hour and I can’t be late. It’s been lovely seeing you, but…”

“Who’re you visiting?” Harry interrupted rudely.

“A relative of mine.” She smirked. “And that’s all you’ll be getting out of me so don’t even try.”

A small laugh escaped Harry’s lips at how well she could gauge their intentions. “Fair enough. It was worth a shot, though.”

“Not really,” Andromeda gave a weak smile. “Come on, Ella. Harry, Hermione, it’s been great to see you. I’ll try to write as often as possible. Say hello to the others for me.”

The two of them nodded, though when they were quite alone, their meeting eyes told a different story altogether. Although Andromeda Tonks had lost nearly everything to the war against Voldemort, the moment she had lifted a finger to help the Malfoys, the wizarding world had turned its back on her. Harry had even heard Mr and Mrs Weasley talking about her in cold hushed voices when he had been staying with them. He didn’t even want to think about what the Prophet was saying about the whole situation.

Hermione took him by the wrist and together, they traipsed out into the summer sun. “We may as well go to Diagon Alley since you’re out of the house. I need to get my new school books and so do you.”

He nodded, only half-listening. He was watching the teens by the lake again, their laughter reaching them from across the road. He thought back to warm summers, stretched out under the oak tree by the lake, finishing homework or reliving particularly good Quidditch matches. He may be dreading the crowds of curious students and memories of pain and death, but Hogwarts was home to him. And despite everything, he was looking forward to going back.


	4. That Sweet, Sweet Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thought back to warm summers, stretched out under the oak tree by the lake, finishing homework or reliving particularly good Quidditch matches. He may be dreading the crowds of curious students and memories of pain and death, but Hogwarts was home to him. And despite everything, he was looking forward to going back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter in only eight days! This has got to be a record! Thanks for all your comments! They really motivated me to keep writing.
> 
> So here it is: a Draco POV chapter. Some Narcissa and Draco time and then just a tiny bit too much of Draco reliving his past. 
> 
> I looked up angst in the thesaurus and found ‘agony’, and that describes this chapter for me very well. You might cry. Just saying.

Draco didn’t think he would ever get used to being back in Malfoy Manor. Everywhere he turned, cruel memories followed. He refused to eat in the dining hall, preferring to occupy the sitting room or his bedroom, but even they weren’t safe anymore. The basement was avoided and any place that had once been inhabited by Death Eaters sent shivers down his spine. He hadn’t even looked in the direction of his father’s study yet.

He dug his toes into the soft cushions of the sofa, trying not to twitch as his mother combed the hairbrush through his shoulder-length hair. He had decided to let it grow long, finding comfort in the way it framed his face, covering the sunken look of his jaw and cheekbones. He felt a slight tug and raised his chin, allowing his mother to tie the last few strands back into a tight ponytail.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to cut it?” Narcissa broke the beautiful silence, pressing her hands down on his shoulders, brushing off a disjointed strand of hair.

He shook his head firmly, determined not to fold to her insistent coddling. His hair was fine as it was.

She sighed and moved around the couch to sit next to him. “If you keep it long you’ll have to learn how to look after it yourself. I can’t help you with it at Hogwarts.”

He glared at her so fiercely that she flinched and he felt no guilt in doing so. He didn’t want to talk about Hogwarts. He didn’t want to have to go back.

“You can’t keep avoiding it, Draco,” she breathed. “I can’t help if you won’t let me. I know you don’t want to go back. A part of me agrees with you. Because if you were here, I could hide you away and protect you from the world. But the choice is out of our hands and it will be so much harder for you if you are in denial.”

She had a point. He was going back, whether he liked it or not, and she only wanted to help. He wished he could tell her that she was helping, that she was doing so well despite everything, that she was the reason he hadn’t run away yet, that he could see her bravery and her strength, that he appreciated everything she was doing. But every time he tried to say it, the words got stuck in his throat, refusing to fall from his tongue. He pressed his face into his mother’s shoulder, squeezing her hand in his, trying to explain his gratitude without actually saying it.

“Love you,” he croaked, his first words all day.

Narcissa seemed to understand because she kissed his forehead and smiled as though he had given her a pile of gold. “I love you too, Draco.”

This, it seemed, was exactly what he needed to hear. His shoulders slackened and his frown diminished slightly. He breathed a small sigh of relief, relaxing against his mother’s body.

Narcissa smiled weakly. “Maybe, you could pull out your trunk and start packing. It could help.”

Her smile was so hopeful that he didn’t have it in him to refuse. Anyway, there were only two weeks before the start of term. He gave the tiniest nod and stood. He scooped up a gurgling Teddy from where he was lying on the carpet. His hair was bright blue today, his cute face the only reminder of his dead parents. He giggled, catching Draco’s shirt in his tiny fist and Draco managed to smile as he moved to his bedroom. He pushed open the door with his foot, not sparing the room a glance as he lay Teddy down on the bed to resume his nap.

His trunk groaned as he pulled it from under his bed, the lid stiff and unyielding, and it took him several minutes to get it open. When it did finally swing back, he moaned in disgust at the mess presented to him. School books were piled high, scattered with broken quills and empty ink bottles. He pulled a crumpled cloak from near the top and threw it towards the door for cleaning. His Slytherin scarf and Quidditch robes followed suit and then he pulled his bin from under his desk and began to go through the contents of his trunk. Only now, throwing sweet wrapper after sweet wrapper into his already half-full bin, did he realise just how much of a sweet tooth he had. Finally, after much cleaning and organising, Draco’s hand scraped the bottom of the trunk and he smirked in delight.

“Having fun?”

He jumped, sending Andromeda a fierce glare for startling him, but she only smiled, sitting cross-legged on the other side of the trunk and getting to work on it with her wand. He leaned back, rolling his shoulders, allowing himself a glance in Teddy’s direction before settling back to watch Andromeda work. The lazy part of himself, most likely connected to his aching shoulders, chided him for not simply waiting for her in the first place.

“Theo sends his love.”

Draco felt a sad smile slip onto his lips and he raised his eyes to his aunt. “Azkaban?” He missed Theo more than anything. He didn’t deserve his sentence and Draco vowed he would do everything in his power - which, to tell the truth, was not very much - to get him released as early as possible.

“Yeah,” Andromeda absentmindedly stacked his books into his trunk. “After I met up with Harry and Hermione. He’s a sweet boy.”

  
  


Draco nodded in agreement. Theo was a sweet boy. Too sweet, sometimes. Too sweet to be a Death Eater. Too sweet to deserve what happened to him.

When they had first crossed paths, two eleven-year-olds in a world that seemed too big for them, Theo had been a boy with too many thoughts whizzing around inside his head and too much determination to have them heard. And this made him the object of rumours and cruelty because these weren’t thoughts befitting of a pureblood Slytherin. However, Draco had inevitably found himself drawn to Theo’s unique vision. Perhaps it was because it allowed him to distance himself further from his father, or maybe it was his lust for a friend who did not worship him, but also took his feelings into account, but Draco had often found himself seated by the fire, gazing raptly at the boy, listening to him speak of werewolf rights and muggleborn inclusion. Not that he had believed any of it, of course, but there was just something about hearing him speak that sent Draco into a trance, unable to counter any of Theo’s arguments. And by his second year, he was opening up to Theo too. About his miserable home life. About how he had been kicked out during the summer and how Severus had taken him in until he returned to school. About how he always felt like he had to prove himself to everyone. About how he loved Sev more than his own father. About how he always felt so alone.

Just before Christmas that year, Severus had visited them in the common room, when everyone else was asleep and told Draco that his parents still didn’t want him home for the holidays. And once he was gone, Theo had held him, keeping completely silent, smoothing back his hair in a comforting manner, as he cried into his shoulder.

When he had come back from the Manor in Sixth Year, bearing a burden no child should have to bear, Theo had dragged him into their empty dorm and kissed him until both their lips were swollen. Draco had been there when Theo had been marked, when he had been sent to Greyback as punishment for being too empathetic towards those they were supposed to hate, when he came back, shaken and weak, blood dripping from a wound in his chest. And after Potter had escaped their clutches and Draco had been tortured to within an inch of his life, Theo had been there, rocking him in his arms, whispering sweet nothings and closing his bloodied wounds with his wand.

Now, stuck here in the Manor, as he had once been, facing the burden of fear they had once shared, facing Hogwart, facing the Golden trio, facing hate and misery and pain, Draco missed that sweet, sweet boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking forward to the next chapter! Draco is going to go back to Hogwarts! Yay!!! 
> 
> If you have any questions or constructive criticism and feel comfortable doing so, please leave a comment.


	5. The Hogwarts Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, stuck here in the Manor, as he had once been, facing the burden of fear they had once shared, facing Hogwarts, facing the Golden trio, facing hate and misery and pain, Draco missed that sweet, sweet boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the support and love this fic is getting. 
> 
> Sorry for the long wait. This chapter was giving me a hard time, but here it is. Another Draco POV. Some chocolate, some panic attacks, some pining and we get to see some Ginny/ Luna interactions. 
> 
> Have some wrackspurt repellent standing by and stay safe!

Platform 9¾ was packed when he arrived, parents dragging excited children towards the scarlet steam engine, owls screeching, toads croaking and cats hissing from their baskets. Trunks dragged along the smooth floor, teens crashing into Draco as they passed on the way to greet their friends after a long summer apart. Despite the ruckus, the mood on the platform was still sombre. It was not as packed as it should have been, even with the Eighth Years winding through the fray. The last time many had been at the castle, they had been fighting for their lives. They had survived a war but were now grieving the loss of family members, friends, loved ones and classmates. Students held each other tightly, whispering softly into each other’s ears, wiping tears from each other’s eyes and promising that they would be there for each other. Parents’ smiles were forced, as though they were unwilling to let their children leave them again, though they knew the fighting had come to an end. 

Eyes were flitting nervously towards the Aurors that stood by the barriers, who watched Draco as he ducked his head and moved towards the train quickly to avoid being recognised. Andromeda kept glancing behind her to glare at them. It was their fault that he was forced to move through this crowd, forced to try and hide his face from sight. Despite her pleas, the Aurors wouldn’t let Draco leave the house until he was already nearly late, another punishment for his sins. He jumped onto the train, allowing Andromeda to help him drag his trunk into a mercifully empty compartment. They heaved the trunk into the luggage rack, setting down his owl Ulysses’ cage at his feet and his aunt wrapped him in a stifling hug.

“Be safe, ok?” She waited for him to nod before continuing. “And you better write, or I will march up to the school and drag you home.”

He rolled his eyes, pushing her towards the door, a smile twitching on his lips. “I will curse you,” he rasped.

“All right, all right,” she laughed, rifling through her pockets and pulling out a few stray coins. “Get yourself something sweet from the trolley. I daresay you need it.”

He took the money gratefully and pulled her into another hug. “Visit,” he mumbled as she stepped back towards the door.

She smiled gently. “Owl me when you find out when the first Hogsmead weekend is and I’ll bring Ella.”

He nodded and returned the smile, turning to rummage for something in his trunk, when her voice made him turn again.

“And Draco?”

“Hmm?”

“Try to enjoy yourself.”

He nodded obediently, wondering how on earth he could keep such a promise, but before he could say anything else, his aunt was gone. He slumped into his seat, trying to ignore the twist of loneliness in his chest which he knew he would have to get used to. The train whistled its final warning and Draco pulled an old paperback copy of a muggle book Andy had recommended from his trunk, lazily flipping to his marked page, clamping his bookmark between his teeth. He sighed as the main character went into yet another soliloquy regarding the case of the missing Antichrist. Honestly. If only he could just grab his friend and take them both into the stars where they would be safe. That’s what he would have done. There was a whoosh as the doors slid closed and the train began to move away from the platform.

“Excuse me?”

He looked up quickly and saw a pair of Fourth Year girls standing awkwardly in the doorway. He raised an eyebrow.

“Can we sit here? All the other compartments are full.”

Draco sincerely doubted that but he wasn’t really in a position to argue with them, so he just nodded, even helping the shorter of the two to slide her trunk into the luggage rack. Just as he was attempting to slump back into his window seat and immerse himself in his book, another girl slid open the door. Her friends greeted her, gesturing for her to sit down, but she froze, her deep brown eyes fixed upon Draco with undisguised contempt.

“I’m not sitting with him,” she growled. “I’m not sitting with a murderer.”

Her friends looked slightly alarmed and she continued, not moving her gaze from Draco’s limp features.

“He’s Draco Malfoy. He’s a Death Eater. He cursed my sister and he killed Professor Dumbledore.”

Draco couldn’t stop himself from flinching and closed his eyelids over his silver irises. So, this was Katie Bell’s sister. When he forced himself to look at her again, she was tossing back her brown mousy hair and baring her teeth.

“Do you even feel sorry?” Bell asked. “Do you even regret it?”

Draco closed his book with a snap and stood, lifting Ulysses’ cage into his arms, sliding his trunk from the luggage rack. He turned back to Bell, his fists clenched. Of course he regretted it. He had been sixteen. He had been a child. He had watched those around him be killed and tortured. He had been tortured. He took a deep calming breath and tilted his head to the side. 

“Are you done?” He breathed. “Or can I leave?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before brushing past her, leaving the carriage to those who deserved it.

~~~

The journey felt far too long. It always had, but sitting hunched over on the hard, cold floor at the end of the carriage just made it ten times worse. At least before he had had a warm compartment, Pansy’s hands in his hair in a way that others thought was far from platonic, Theo’s commentary, Blaise’s eager input and Vincent and Gregory’s sweets being carefully passed around. Now, the noise of the train speeding through the countryside was so much louder and he was missing the physical contact. He was just beginning to nod off against the wall when a slender hand shook him awake. 

“Hello, Draco. You really shouldn’t sleep here. I don’t imagine it’s very comfortable.”

He jerked backwards and hit his head against the wall, letting out a low moan of pain. “Luna.”

Luna Lovegood smiled dreamily. “Come on. I’ll help you with your trunk. It looks awfully heavy.”

He didn’t move. “I’m fine, Luna. You don’t have to…” He trailed off, unable to continue under the glare of her knowing smile. 

“You don’t have any other friends. And I want to help you.”

“I don’t need your help.” His voice sounded much colder than he had meant it to.

Luna rolled her eyes. “You’re covered in wrackspurts, Draco. Come on. We have a carriage all to ourselves.”

Her sincerity caused him to crack a smile and allow himself to be pulled up into a gentle hug. Luna held him for what felt like a long time before cautiously letting go. 

“Who’s we?” He asked sceptically, but the blonde only shook her head and moved to help him pick up his trunk and cage.

Luckily, the compartment in question was only a few doors down, but when Luna pulled open the door, Draco froze. Ginny Weasley did likewise. Luna broke the silence with her usual dreamy tone. 

“Ginny, Draco doesn’t have any friends to sit with, so he’s going to stay here where the wrackspurts can’t get him.” Ginny’s lips thinned visibly and Luna blinked her bright blue eyes. “He won’t tell anyone if we kiss, Gin.”

Draco looked between the two girls, a nervous smile forming on his lips. “That would be quite hypocritical of me, wouldn’t it?” He murmured, remembering the time Luna had walked in on him and Theo. She still hadn’t told a soul - that he knew of anyway.

Ginny blinked once and then sighed, nodding to the seats opposite her. “I honestly don’t have the energy to fight you right now, Malfoy. Keep your mouth shut and you can stay.”

Draco gave a small nod, relief etched all over his pointed features. He slid his trunk into the luggage rack, slumping into a seat, sheltering Ulysses’ cage between his legs. Luna smiled knowingly, slotting herself into place at Ginny’s side and proceeding to kiss her sweetly on the cheek. Draco’s hand ran along the spine of his book, his heart heavy as he watched Ginny blush and lean into the touch. He missed that sort of contact. He missed Theo’s fingers in his hair, their tangled bodies, his hands on Theo’s hips and Theo’s lips on his. He didn’t want to imagine what Theo looked like now, locked up in a cell he could barely lie down in, features sunken and gaunt, new scars covering his body, his hair limp and greasy and his eyes tormented by endless nightmares. Azkaban didn’t have access to healers, nor the potions that kept Theo as himself, whole and human. 

Ginny glared at him. “What?” she snapped.

He realised with a jolt that he had been staring and looked away, flushing. “Nothing,” he stuttered, “just thinking.” 

Ginny leaned forward, her eyebrows raised. “About what?” She seemed to be daring him to answer wrongly. 

He shrugged, answering without thinking, a habit he had not lost from his time in the Ministry’s cells and his trial. “My boyfriend.”

Ginny’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, making her look like a red-headed goldfish. Draco wrapped his arms around himself, regretting his loose tongue. Damn the Ministry. 

The redhead finally found her voice. “You have a boyfriend?”

He winced at the incredulous sound of her voice. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said softly, but Ginny was having none of it. 

“Come on! You can’t just tell us you’re into guys and leave it at that. I mean, what happened to Parkinson? I was sure you were straight.”

Luna took this moment to interject. “I wasn’t.”

Draco ignored her, narrowing his eyes at the Weasley girl. “Since it is suddenly your business,” he said haughtily, “I’m gay. And Pansy and I were never a thing.”

“Fine, but who is he… your boyfriend? Come on, I have to know.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped.

Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but he was saved by the trolley, rolling up laden with the sweets he sorely needed right now. 

“Anything from the trolley, dears?”

Draco sprang to his feet, pulling out the money from his pockets and stepping out of the compartment to face the smiling elderly lady, who rolled her eyes, chuckling. “You again? Well, come on, I daresay you will be taking some of everything.”

He smiled at her before pointing to the sweets he wanted. He kept the quantity as sparse as he could; his budget was lower than usual with the Malfoy vault frozen, though this rule could not withstand his infatuation with peppermint toads, which he piled into a separate paper bag to save for later. He paid and slid back into the compartment, setting the sweets on the seats behind him, sticking a chocolate mouse into his mouth. Luna and Ginny were still watching him, Luna with a tender smile, Ginny with obvious apprehension, so he offered the bag of sweets to them. Luna grinned and took a chocolate frog gratefully, snorting when she held up the card to reveal an unappealing picture of Potter. Draco sighed. Of course, the Golden Boy got his own card. He offered the bag to Ginny, but she shook her head wearily. 

“I’m sorry,” the red-head whispered. “I didn’t mean to…”

However, Draco shook his head. The girl obviously thought that Theo was dead and after what happened to her brother, Draco refused to allow her to believe she had been insensitive. “He’s in Azkaban,” he muttered. “Two years.”

“Oh,” Ginny breathed, looking slightly relieved. “So he was a…”

“Yes,” Draco interrupted her. “One of the three underage people to be marked.”

“Who… who were the others?”

“Me and my cousin, Isadora. She’s in Azkaban too.” He slipped a piece of chocolate into his mouth, chuckling darkly. “They didn’t have the Chosen One to plead for their freedom. And it's not like they did anything near as bad as I did.” He sighed. “But, they’re orphans now, so even if they were released, they wouldn’t have anywhere to go.” He discreetly wiped the corners of his eyes and slid his book onto his lap, flicking back to his marked page, thus signalling the end of their conversation. “I bought these to share,” he added, gesturing to the sweets with a slight smirk.

Ginny hesitated, before reaching forward to take a pumpkin pasty, muttering under her breath. “You’re still a git, Malfoy.”

He sneered, “I never said I wasn’t, Weaslette.”

There was a moment of tense silence before all three of them burst into laughter, weakened only slightly by what they had experienced the year before. The rest of the journey was much more relaxed and Draco even allowed himself to sleep for an hour, though the sound of lips colliding every time he closed his eyes made the task awfully arduous. He had to leave at one point on the pretence of having to change just to escape the bittersweet sounds of girls in love. What made it all the more terrible was that it would not usually affect him. He had witnessed Blaise Zabini with enough of his interim partners to have built up a thick skin to that sort of thing. But, to a touch starved boy missing his boyfriend, this was nothing less than torture.

~~~

When the train reached Hogwarts, Ginny was the first one to disappear, so Draco and Luna followed her out of the compartment together, Draco stuffing his sweets into his pockets as he pulled the door closed behind them. He could sense people looking at him now, noticing him, speaking about him with little care for whether or not he heard them.

“Draco Malfoy?”

“Death Eater.”

“He killed…”

“Paid his way out of prison, I bet.”

“Murderer.”

Draco shuddered, feeling his breath catch in his throat. There were eyes everywhere, more still as they exited the train onto the platform. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t. He had spilt blood here. He had bathed his home in red. He couldn’t go back. A slight hand slipped into his, tightening softly, palm against palm, wrists brushing. 

“Breathe, Draco. That’s right. Breathe.” Luna allowed Draco to move closer to her until they were touching from shoulder to fingertips.

He took a deep breath, then another. He was ok. He focused on the softness of Luna’s palm and the edges of her nails digging into the back of his hand. He took another deep breath before raising his head to look up at the castle. This was still his home. There were still people who cared about him here. There were still good memories mixed in with the bad ones.

“We’re home,'' he whispered. And they stepped together onto the crowded platform. They were going home.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, the book Draco was reading was Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.
> 
> The next chapter will be Harry POV and we will finally get inside the castle. Let's hope the wait is worth it. 
> 
> Also, who is Isadora? Let's see if you can figure it out before we meet her.
> 
> Stay safe.


	6. Watching Your Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He took another deep breath before raising his head to look up at the castle. This was still his home. There were still people who cared about him here. There were still good memories mixed in with the bad ones.
> 
> “We’re home,'' he whispered. And they stepped together onto the crowded platform. They were going home.
> 
> ~~~
> 
> Another Harry POV chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Over 1,000 people have read this fic. Well, here's another chapter. 
> 
> And another chapter next week too! I'm going to try and update every Monday, but we'll see how it goes.

“Malfoy was on the train.”

Harry jerked his head from Hermione’s shoulder to stare at Ginny as she leaned against the doorway of the thestral-drawn carriage. Harry heard Ron huff in annoyance at the mention of the boy -man now- and Harry honestly didn’t see why he should care about the blonde git. 

“So what?” he grumbled.

“So,” she sighed, rolling her eyes, “I thought you should know, since Luna has adopted him.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, ‘adopted him’?”

“Exactly that,” she shrugged. “Luna’s adopted him, like a lost puppy who she’s taken pity on and she’s bringing him here.” She waved behind her at a pair of approaching figures before sliding into the empty row of seats opposite them. 

All the air seemed to have been sucked out of the carriage and Harry felt his heart sink. He couldn’t face Malfoy now, not when his nerves were already stretched to their breaking point. He could not take the snide comments and hateful glares. But, Luna was already gliding into the carriage, dragging a reluctant Malfoy behind her. To his surprise, Malfoy didn’t glare at him, or sneer, or say anything at all. He didn’t even look at him. The difference in the old bully was obvious from the moment he entered. His unrecognisable long hair was tied at the top of his head in a loose knot, robes hiding worn Muggle jeans and shirt, a slight slump in his stature as he leaned more heavily on one hip, his hands sunk deep into his pockets.

“Get out.” Ron was on his feet, his wand pointed at the blonde with every intention of cursing him.

Malfoy froze, his face undergoing a series of emotions in quick succession; anger, fear, guilt and finally… nothing. Wait, not nothing. His hands were trembling, his eyes glimmering and he didn’t seem to be breathing. Just for a moment, Harry saw the boy who had stood on the astronomy tower, not the cold blooded killer, no, but the panicky terrified child who had been about to lower his wand. Not only that, but he saw Sirius as the dementors approached him across the lake, he saw Mrs Weasley after Bill had been attacked by Greyback, Tonks when she had raced into battle to fight alongside her husband, Remus when Sirius had died leaving him the last Marauder, Hagrid when they had been about to execute Buckbeak, George seeing his twin’s body, Hermione when she had thought she wouldn’t find her parents, Ron when he had faced Fred, Tonks and Remus’ joint funeral, Snape in his last moments before death. He saw good people, friends, family, loved ones and heroes. Merlin, why did Malfoy choose now to make himself so hard to hate?

“I said get out!” Ron snarled, bringing Harry back to the present as Malfoy took a quick step backwards, holding a hand out to stop Luna from getting up. 

Sparks were flying from the red-head’s wand and a part of Harry wondered why Malfoy didn’t go for his wand, or at least run. Though, if he did run, there was no chance that he would find another carriage. He took another few steps back, until he was in the doorway again, but Hermione used that moment to grab Ron and pull him back into his seat.

“Sit down, Malfoy,” she said without sympathy. “No one else is going to sit with you.”

Malfoy hesitated for only a moment before allowing Luna to pull him down beside her. 

“But-” Ron protested and Hermione shot him a glare as the carriage lurched and began to move. 

“Honestly, Ron. You really want to stoop to his level? You want to act like a bullying blood purist?”

Harry saw Malfoy flinch, but somehow he managed to keep his mouth shut, twisting his fingers together, his knuckles whitening. Luna, however, gritted her teeth and glared at Hermione, surprising all of them with her firm tone.

“That’s not very nice, Hermione.” 

Malfoy’s gaze didn’t move from his lap, but he groaned softly. “Drop it, Luna. She’s not wrong.”

The blonde’s voice sounded weak, exhausted. Only now did Harry truly see how broken Malfoy was. Not only did he agree with Hermione’s interpretation of his actions, but his long hair didn’t totally hide his thin, gaunt and tired features. The man was a mess. 

Luna ignored him. “Draco changed in sixth year. He’s not like he was. You can’t expect him to get along with everyone, but he’s welcoming to those who need it.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Really? I must have missed that part. Was that when he was calling me a mudblood, or when he was trying to murder Harrry?”

“In my fifth year,” Luna said quietly, “the other Ravenclaws started locking me out of the common room at night.” The carriage was suddenly deathly silent. “So, I spent most of the nights walking around the castle, avoiding Filch and trying to find somewhere to sleep. Just before Christmas, I was wandering the seventh floor and Draco came out of the Room of Requirement. He looked angry and I thought he was going to curse me, but he just wrapped me in his cloak and brought me to the Slytherin common room. That was where I slept for the rest of the year. He gave me the password to the common room after making me swear not to tell anyone because he didn’t want to risk anyone attacking his friends. When he wasn’t sleeping, he gave me his bed and if neither of us could, he would ask a house elf to bring us hot chocolate and we would talk or sit in silence. It never really mattered which it was. One night, after I had a nightmare about my mum, he held me and sang me to sleep. 

“And last year, when I was still at Hogwarts, Draco rescued me from the Carrows. He kept a lot of people safe from them. He helped people after bad detentions too, sneaking scar cream into their dorms or slipping some Dreamless Sleep into their bags. And he didn’t tell anyone how to get into the Room of Requirement, even though he knew we were hiding there and how to get in. Even before the war, he was always kind to the new Slytherins, especially when they felt homesick, or had nightmares, or were abused. Even the older Slytherins said he was like their big brother, always looking out for them, making sure they ate and helping them sleep.”

“Kind?” Hermione scoffed. “Was he kind when he had you locked up in his cellar, or when he stood by and watched me being tortured?”

“We were at war,” Luna argued, “and Draco did what he could. He kept most of the Death Eaters away from us when possible. He brought extra food and water. He healed us and gave us potions to ease our pain. Some people didn’t have the privilege of being able to keep their family out of the way, Hermione. Some people couldn’t go on the run, or go into hiding, or fight. Some people just had to do what they could when they could and hope it was enough. He saved Harry’s life, didn’t he? In the Manor? And you would have to be a fool to believe he wasn’t punished for it.”

For the second time, Malfoy’s voice disrupted the silence, cracked and dry, sounding almost like his father in his weakness. “It was a nice speech, Luna,” he grimaced, “but I don’t want your pity or your gratitude. I’m not some hero in the shadows. I’m just an idiot who was fool enough to believe every word that came out of my father’s mouth was law.” He turned to address Harry, Ron and Hermione. “You’re not cruel people. I don’t think you would intentionally hurt someone who can’t fight back. I don’t intend to join my father in Azkaban and with my wand locked, I can’t do much to deserve it, so how about we make this year as easy as possible and stay out of each other’s ways, hmm?” 

He raised an eyebrow in a way that forcibly reminded Harry of the blonde aged eleven, shooting into the air on one of the school’s broomsticks, so sure that he was the best flyer in the group. Before any of them could answer, Malfoy was standing, the only one out of the six of them that had realised that the carriage had stopped, and he pushed open the door, stepping out into the cool night air. Before he could vanish into the crowd, though, Ron shouted after him.

“You better watch your back, Death Eater!”

Harry stiffened and Luna and Ginny gasped, glaring at Ron, but when Malfoy turned to look at him, there was no coldness in his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Ronald,” Malfoy whispered, that resigned look back on his face, as though he was coming to terms with the fact that the coming year would be anything but kind to him. “It’s the habit of a lifetime.” He reached out gently and stroked the nearest thestral’s mane, giving it a quick pat before turning on his heel and speeding towards the hulking figure of the castle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be out next Monday. It will be another Harry POV chapter, but then we're back to Draco. Stay safe!
> 
> Also, favourite Harry Potter ship? 
> 
> Mine is wolfstar (Remus Lupin/Sirius Black). What's yours?


	7. The Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You better watch your back, Death Eater!”
> 
> Harry stiffened and Luna and Ginny gasped, glaring at Ron, but when Malfoy turned to look at him, there was no coldness in his eyes.
> 
> “Don’t worry, Ronald,” Malfoy whispered, that resigned look back on his face, as though he was coming to terms with the fact that the coming year would be anything but kind to him. “It’s the habit of a lifetime.” He reached out gently and stroked the nearest thestral’s mane, giving it a quick pat before turning on his heel and speeding towards the hulking figure of the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 100 kudos. Thanks so much for all of your support! 
> 
> As promised, another chapter in Harry's POV. It's time for the long-awaited feast.

Ginny rounded on Ron, pulling out her wand. “You insensitive git! You think he hasn’t heard enough of that all summer? You think he hasn’t had howlers flying around his head ever since he was released?”

Ron reached for his wand too. “Why are you siding with him. He’s a murderer. A Death Eater. People like him killed Fred!”

Ginny froze and before they knew what was happening, she was shoving her wand back into her pocket, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You know, Ron, he’s the only person apart from Luna that hasn’t shoved that in my face over the past three months. He hasn’t tried to coddle me, or apologise, or make sure that I’m ok because I’m not ok! My brother died, and ‘I'm sorry’ won't bring him back!”

Luna gently settled her hand on the now sobbing girl’s shoulder. “Come on, Ginny. You can sit with me for dinner.”

Ginny turned, wiping her eyes on her sleeves, leaning on the blonde as they moved into the crowd towards the castle and the inviting prospect of dinner and comfort. Ron stood there spluttering for a few seconds before Hermione took pity on him and gave him a light shove in the right direction to get him going. They let themselves be swept up in the wave of students heading into the entrance hall and as they walked, Ron gave Harry an annoyed look.

“Honestly, Harry,” he grumbled. “She wouldn’t have been in such a bad mood if you hadn’t ditched her. You should try to get her back, it's obviously what she wants.”

Harry gaped at him, fury boiling in his chest, but Hermione squeezed his hand to warn him against lashing out. 

“Ron,” she said tentatively. “You do know that Ginny was the one to end their relationship and not Harry, don’t you?”

“Well, he should have fought harder to keep it going. She wanted him to fight for her, not just give up and leave.”

Even Hermione gritted her teeth at this. “She wanted him to move on, Ron. She wanted to explore her own preferences. She told Harry that she just didn’t fancy him like that anymore and fighting would have just ended with them losing each other as friends.”

Ron hesitated and sighed, finally seeing his mistake. “Forget it,” he muttered. “I was a git. Sorry, Harry.”

Harry shrugged, appeased by the apology. “No harm done, mate. You should make up with Ginny though. You don’t want to end up on the wrong end of one of her bat-bogey hexes.”

Ron laughed weakly. “No, I don’t.”

“Do you think he did all that stuff Luna said he did?” Hermione asked thoughtfully.

Harry followed her gaze and saw that Malfoy had been pulled aside by a thin stern-looking man that Harry recognised from the Auror Office at the Ministry, though he was sure the man had retired after the Battle of Hogwarts. He was glaring at Malfoy and speaking in a low threatening voice. And Malfoy -Malfoy who he was sure had never been intimidated by anyone in his life- was shaking slightly, not meeting the man’s eye. Was it possible that the blonde was truly terrified of this man? Harry didn’t like that thought.

“Maybe you should ask him,” he replied to Hermione’s question. He doubted Luna would lie about something like that, but, try as he might, he just couldn’t imagine Draco Malfoy comforting homesick eleven-year-olds. 

“I don’t know,” Hermione ran a finger through one of her numerous curls. “I think we should just avoid him. Concentrate on our exams.”

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes. They were only just reaching the entrance hall and Hermione was already talking about exams. 

The Great Hall was dazzling, the ceiling dotted with shimmering stars due to the clear night outside, the tables laden with empty silver goblets, dishes and cutlery. True to their words, Ginny was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, her head resting on Luna’s shoulder, their hands intertwined. The staff table didn’t look that different at first glance, but the old faces were accompanied by plenty of new ones and Professor McGonagall sat in what had once been Dumbledore’s chair. Above each house table, hung a different coloured banner; red, yellow, blue and green; in the centre of which was not the house crest, but a blazing phoenix welcoming the students home. Harry slid onto one of the Gryffindor benches, Ron and Hermione on either side of him. 

He looked back towards the entrance hall, just in time to spot Malfoy scurrying in after a group of second years, his head bowed, one arm wrapped tightly around himself, the other stuffing what looked like a chocolate frog into his mouth. He slumped into a seat right at the end of the Slytherin table, resting his head on the wood, his jaw working furiously. Blaise Zabini approached him and they exchanged a few words before the dark-skinned boy took the blonde into a gentle hug. Malfoy leaned on him gratefully, muttering something apologetically, but Zabini just smiled, letting go of him and returning to sit with the only other returning Eighth Year Slytherin: Daphne Greengrass. 

Malfoy dropped his head back onto the table just as the oaken doors opened again and the First Years were herded in by the Auror he had seen outside. Hagrid sidled to his seat and waved at Harry brightly. Harry waved back, watching suspiciously as the Auror took the only empty seat at the staff table. 

So, he was a teacher. 

Great.

He ignored most of the Sorting Hat’s latest song, but halfway through, something caught his attention. The hat wasn’t describing the traits associated with each house. Once again, the Sorting Hat was giving them advice.

_ “Bold Gryffindors: know that not everyone can be saved. _

_ Sweet Hufflepuffs: mourning those you lost is brave. _

_ Quick Ravenclaws: failure leads to greater learning. _

_ Sly Slytherins: shows them your hearts are filled with the same love and yearning. _

_ “I will sort to these houses four, _

_ But I must tell you this: _

_ Love all those around you, students, _

_ Because that’s what Hogwarts is.” _

The hall was silent for a moment, and surprisingly, the Slytherins were the first ones to break into applause. Harry clapped alongside the rest of the houses, but as he did so, he yelled to Hermione.

“What do you think that was about?”

Of course, Hermione had the answer. “It was telling us how to fix our flaws. See, Gryffindors want to save everybody, Hufflepuffs are too busy looking after everyone else to mourn, Ravenclaws are scared of being wrong when it matters and Slytherins isolate themselves. It’s pretty obvious, actually. It wants us to be united. Same as before the war.”

Ron shook his head. “Fat chance, that.”

However, he was forced to shut up as the first student’s name was called and the Sorting began. Overall, it wasn’t a bad Sorting. Thirteen new Gryffindors, eight Hufflepuffs, seven Ravenclaws and only three Slytherins. Harry tried to clap for them all. Once the hat had been taken from the hall, Harry looked expectantly at the dishes in front of him, only to find them empty, Professor McGonagall was standing.

“To our new students: welcome. To our old students: welcome back. The last few years have been hard for all of us, but…”

She froze. All along the Slytherin table, wands had been raised and lit above their heads. And then the singing started. It was slow and sad, yet hopeful, a cheerful song sang with quiet voices. 

_ “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something, please. Whether we be old and bald or young with scabby knees. Our heads could do with filling with some interesting stuff. For now they’re bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff. So teach us things worth learning. Bring back what we’ve forgot. Just do your best, we’ll do the rest and learn until our brains all rot. _

_ “Though many have fallen, and left us here without, we remember brave and smart and kind as well as kin, no doubt. So, forgive us for our blunders, forgive us for our pasts, forgive us, mind our fragile hearts, we will not lose this second chance. Trust does not come easy, but we will do our best. Last year was not forgiving, but unity is our new quest.” _

As the song ended, Zabini stood up, letting his wand go out. There was a brief pause, and then a blazing phoenix flew from the tip, twirling into the air in a fiery eruption before exploding into ash which showered the Slytherin table above their creator. Zabini brushed himself off and sat down with a wink in Malfoy’s direction which was met with only an open-mouthed stare. Evidently, he had not known about this particular stunt, though Harry swore he saw the blonde mouth, ‘my song?’ to his grinning friends, who nodded.

For once, Professor McGonagall was speechless. It took her quite a while to finally open her mouth and croak, “thank you, Slytherin.” Her voice gained strength. “And let that be an example for your peer in the other houses. Now, more than ever, we must unite.”

Harry felt slightly in shock. Ron looked it, with his jaw hanging off its hinges, though that wasn’t a rare sight, and Hermione, as usual, only looked slightly surprised. 

When Harry gave her a weird look, she shrugged. “I knew they were going to do something, I just didn’t think it would be this dramatic.”

“We all know this year will be hard for everyone,” McGonagall continued. “Even the staff are feeling the consequences of the trauma we have overcome and as such, we urge all of you to speak to a Mind Healer. We have hired a team of them, whose offices will be situated next to the hospital wing. Do not hesitate to go to them or any other member of staff if you are in need. Also, as you can see, we have many new faces among our teachers. Let me introduce Professor Dankworth, who will be taking my old post of Transfiguration teacher.”

A dark-skinned woman with the same strict demeanour as Professor McGonagall stood stiffly, giving her audience a wry smile as they applauded her. It seemed like stern, clever and not-to-be-trifled-with were requirements when it came to the role of Transfiguration teacher.

“Professor Knowles, who will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and Gryffindor Head of House.”

Harry groaned as the Auror from earlier stood, scowling at the students. He seemed less fun than Binns and he was a ghost! At least McGonagall had been stern and wise. Knowles was just downright miserable.

“Professor Brooks, who will be teaching Potions and well as becoming Slytherin’s Head of House.”

A young witch with her hair tied in a loose bun, her wand stuck into the centre of it to keep it in place, stood, grinning and blowing a kiss towards the Slytherin table. She looked fun, easy to talk to, nothing at all like Snape or Slughorn, and Harry wondered hopefully if maybe there had been a huge misunderstanding. Slytherins weren’t meant to wear Muggle earrings in the shapes of wolves and dye their hair bright silver. They weren’t meant to have that mischief in their eyes or a smile that told of hidden secrets and a joke she didn’t intend to share with the rest of them. However, Harry sighed with indignation, there also wasn’t a chance that Knowles was a Slytherin, not when he obviously loathed them. That was a characteristic reserved solely to Gryffindors. 

“And finally, Professor Shaw will be the first muggleborn to teach Muggle Studies at Hogwarts.”

Shaw stood, smiling eagerly as she received her applause, before retaking her seat.

“There is, as always, more that needs to be said, but for now… Tuck in.”

The feast appeared before them, piles upon piles of roast potatoes, ham, roast beef, roast chicken, sausages, bacon, steak, peas, carrots, gravy and pork chops. Harry, however, wasn’t feeling too hungry. He’d rarely eaten much in one go over the holidays, despite Kreacher’s nagging, and he wasn’t about to start now. He took a few potatoes, eating slowly, but even that small amount of food made his stomach fill up far too quickly. He refused dessert, even when Hermione pestered him about how little he had eaten. She just didn’t get it, did she? After the Dursleys, he was used to skipping meals. When the dishes cleared themselves for the second time that night, Professor McGonagall rose again.

“I understand that your beds await, but I would like your full concentration for a few more minutes. First of all, duelling of any form is not permitted outside of assigned classes. There will be no jinxes in the corridors between classes and absolutely no one is to attack another student; do I make myself clear? Punishments for any of these will be harsh, including detention, suspension and expulsion. Also, I do not know how many times it must be said before it sinks into some of you,” she glared at the Gryffindor table, “but the Forbidden Forest is out-of-bounds to everyone who does not wish to die at the hands of the creatures inside it, or the hands of one of us when we find you.” Laughter rippled through the sea of red and gold, but the lions were swiftly silenced with one of her deadly glares. “And finally, Quidditch captains should report to their Heads of Houses within the week to organise tryouts. That is all. Prefects, lead the First Years to their common rooms. Eighth Years, please remain seated. Goodnight.”

There was a grinding of chairs as the hall rose as one. Harry flinched at the loud noise, closing his eyes until the hall was marginally quieter. He felt Hermione gripping his arm and stood, following the other Eighth Years to the middle of the hall. All of the Gryffindor boys were back, but Parvati Patil looked lonely without Lavender by her side. Harry felt a huge amount of resentment towards Fenrir Greyback at that moment. The rest of the houses weren’t as packed as theirs. There were only four Ravenclaws: Padma Patil, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner; four Hufflepuffs: Susan Bones, Ernie McMillan, Hannah Abbott and, unfortunately, Zacharias Smith; and three Slytherins: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. Many of the teachers filed past them, muttering to each other in low voices. Harry was sure he saw Professor Knowles shoot the Headmistress a distinctly dirty look as he passed, but she seemed not to notice.

“Eighth years,” McGonagall called for their attention. “I know that last year was especially hard for all of you. You witnessed things no children should have to see and every single one of you fought an adult’s war. We are so proud of you and we want this year to be as peaceful as possible so you can complete your examinations comfortably. However, there aren’t enough dorms in your Houses, so we have had to make alternative arrangements.” 

The Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs groaned, but the Slytherins looked slightly pleased with themselves for some reason. He supposed the dungeons must get very cold in the winter. Harry sighed. He would miss Gryffindor tower, but he guessed a change of scene wouldn’t hurt. 

“You will be sharing a common room, and there are only two dorms each for boys and girls. Therefore we will be pairing up the houses. For girls, it will be Gryffindor with Slytherin and Hufflepuff with Ravenclaw. For boys, Mr Zabini will be with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and Mr Malfoy will be with the Gryffindors.”

That changed Harry’s mind instantly. A change of scene could hurt. A lot.

“You want to split us up?” Zabini shook his head. “You can’t leave Daph and Draco alone with a bunch of lions. They’ll be eaten alive!”

McGonagall smiled sympathetically. “Blaise, I understand your concern, but do you honestly think I would allow any of my students to be harmed?”

“It’s not a matter of whether you allow it, Headmistress,” he snapped back. “Have you even though about why there are only three Slytherin Eighth Years? I have, all summer. Because Vincent burned to death, because Gregory and Theo are in Azkaban, because Pansy and Millie have been run out of the country, because Tracey hasn’t recovered from what the Carrows did to her for helping that First Year, because Sally died fighting for your side. I can’t lose any more friends, Headmistress. Not to Death Eaters, not to the Ministry, not to the Dark Lord and not to a pride of vengeful lions.”

A pale hand slid onto Zabini’s shoulder as Malfoy stepped up behind him, muttering something into the other boy’s ear. Zabini’s lips visibly twitched. 

“Fine,” he growled, glaring at the Gryffindors, “but if they lay a finger on any of you, I’ll rip them limb from limb.”

“It isn’t worth prison,” Malfoy reminded him softly. “I speak from experience.”

Harry gaped at the pair of them. Had Malfoy just helped them avoid a fight? Had he really just gave in to McGonagall’s sleeping arrangements. There was an uncomfortable silence following Malfoy’s words, during which Zabini seemed to calm down, giving the blonde an apologetic look.

McGonagall gave Malfoy a small smile and continued.

“Now that we have that sorted out,” she ran her gaze over all of them, “I have one more announcement to make. Your year group will be joined by two more students. One of them was your classmate for seven years, and the other has never even stepped into the grounds. I ask that you treat them both with respect; they have been through much more than any of you and still have managed to remain kind, respectful people. They do not deserve your scorn.”

“Professor,” Hermione said shyly. “Who are they?”

“Theodore Nott and Isadora Lestrange.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a cliffhanger. The next chapter will be from Draco's POV!


	8. Theodore Nott and Isadora Lestrange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now that we have that sorted out,” she ran her gaze over all of them, “I have one more announcement to make. Your year group will be joined by two more students. One of them was your classmate for seven years, and the other has never even stepped into the grounds. I ask that you treat them both with respect; they have been through much more than any of you and still have managed to remain kind, respectful people. They do not deserve your scorn.”
> 
> “Professor,” Hermione said shyly. “Who are they?”
> 
> “Theodore Nott and Isadora Lestrange.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 2,000 hits and nearly 150 kudos. Thanks so much for all your support!
> 
> Sorry for the long wait, but I'm giving you an extra long chapter to make up for it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Draco froze, his heart catching. They were here? They were in this very building? McGonagall had looked deadly serious when she had said it, but how on earth had she been able to get them out of Azkaban? That was probably why Professor Knowles hadn’t seemed too happy with her. He had made it abundantly clear to him that he didn’t want him there and that any misbehaviour would send him straight back to prison, where he belonged. This wasn’t a second chance. This was a test.

There was the sound of steady movement at the doors and his head snapped around. The Aurors came first. They had been his nightmare every single day he had resided in their cells. Their cruel taunts - which often matured into assaults - still rang in his ears. The feeling of their boots still jarred his back. He took a quick step away from them, completely forgetting about his cousin and boyfriend. Blaise stepped close to him, taking his arm in a gentle grip, helping to ground him. Almost distantly, Draco noticed that Blaise had avoided his forearm, something he was grateful for, as the Dark Mark still hurt sometimes when he touched it. 

He forced his eyes away from the mass of cruel expressions, letting his gaze linger on Theo and Izzy as they stopped, holding out their hands to be free of their bonds. Theo looked sickly pale, a long scar from his chin to left ear standing out strikingly from his pasty skin. He was leaning on Izzy for support, walking with a limp, his eyes fixed on his feet. Izzy was the opposite. Sure, she was a bit unsteady on her feet, but she kept her chin up, staring around the hall with a crazed smile, undeniably delighted with the situation she had found herself in. She had somehow managed to tie her jet-black hair into a plait to keep it out of her face and her dark brown heavy-lidded eyes caught the attention of everyone in the room.

McGonagall nodded for the Aurors to leave and Izzy blew a kiss at their backs, followed almost immediately by a very rude hand gesture. Blaise and Daphne rushed to cover their laughter and Draco didn’t hide the tiny smile that decorated his lips. He moved without thinking, darting forwards and taking Theo’s other side. Izzy rewarded him with a dazzling smile and together, they helped him shuffle to the Ravenclaw bench and slump onto it. He was weak, shaking from all the eyes on him, but he seemed to have calmed down now that the Aurors were gone. He raised his head, offering a weak smile and shifting closer to Draco, who threw an arm around him to keep him by his side. 

Izzy had a hand on his shoulder. To others it may not look it, but Draco knew she was holding onto him to keep herself steady. She gave a bright smirk to the assembled students, forcing their attention away from Draco and Theo. To Draco’s surprise, the only person who wasn’t looking at her was Potter, who looked away quickly when their eyes met.

“This place is huge!” Izzy grinned. “Even bigger than Beauxbaton. It's so good to be here. I mean, Azkaban had its upsides, but you can’t beat a good meal and a soft bed. The screaming starts to get on your nerves after a few weeks.”

McGonagall gave the girl one of her rare smiles. “When I told you to make a good impression, Ms Lestrange, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Izzy shrugged. “I had to have enough enthusiasm for the whole room since this group is harder to please than a swarm of dementors and Theo is feeling a bit under the weather and therefore couldn’t help with the entertainment.”

Theo shot her a halfhearted glare but didn’t argue with her description of his condition.

“Also, I’d prefer to go by Black. Being forcefully reminded that I am related to that bag of cats is starting to wear on my patience. No offence to cats.” She gave McGonagall a sideways glance.

“I see,” the Headmistress nodded. “Ms Black, then.”

Granger’s brow furrowed and Draco braced himself for the storm she was about to start. “You’re Bellatrix Lestrange’s daughter, aren’t you?” Her eyes were wide, unable to look away from the dark-skinned, curly-haired girl with heavy-lidded eyes.

If looks could kill, everyone in the castle would have suddenly caught a fatal disease. Izzy’s jaw stiffened and she tightened her grip on Draco’s shoulder. “Bellatrix may have given birth to me, but she was not my mom. My parents were Muggles whose son had just begun to develop magic when they adopted me. They raised me since I was a baby. They brought me to Diagon Alley to collect my school books. They supported me and they comforted me after we found out about the Azkaban breakout. They protected me. Bellatrix was the witch who murdered them in front of me when I was sixteen. Bellatrix was the one who ruined my life. I’d kill her myself if she wasn’t already dead.”

Surprisingly, Granger didn’t have a comeback to that. All she could manage was a little, “oh,” looking like she sincerely regretted bringing the topic up. Draco couldn’t blame her. Izzy could be ferocious when she wanted to be and the look she was getting could melt ice. 

He only half-listened as McGonagall continued to list off rules as though the interaction hadn’t taken place. He took that moment to examine Theo, noting how much thinner he was, how he had huge shadows under his eyes. He ran his finger gently over the scar on his cheek. It looked painful, untreated and still fresh. 

He murmured into his boyfriend’s ear. “I have some cream in my trunk that can help with the scars. It can ease the pain at least.”

Theo looked up, giving him a small fragile smile, his hand sliding down to discreetly brush against his thigh. His hair was matted and Draco knew it would probably be painful to brush out. He more than likely had scars on his scalp to deal with too. Just seeing the broken look on the dark-haired boy’s face made him want to curse the Ministry into oblivion, but the way his eyes lit up and his lips curled into a tentative smile when it dawned on him that he wasn’t in Azkaban anymore, that just made Draco want to give McGonagall all the money in Gringotts to make up for this miracle she had overseen, for giving Theo this second chance. He deserved it more than anyone.

“Think you’re better than everyone else now that you’ve got your Death Eater friends back, Malfoy,” a familiar voice shouted, “or are you going to listen like everyone else?”

Draco flinched, forcing himself to raise his chin and meet Weasley’s eyes as his father had taught him. 

Malfoys do not flinch. Malfoys are superior.

He shook away Lucius’ words with a whispered, “sorry.”

“Mr Weasley,” McGonagall’s lips were thin. “I think you will find that now is a good time to keep your mouth shut and your nose out of other people’s business. Mr Malfoy, please enlighten Mr Weasley on the important points of what I just said.”

Draco just about managed to hide his smirk. McGonagall seemed to have gotten a good understanding of him through the meetings she had set up over the holidays. She had come to try to convince him to make the best of the upcoming year, but she was too cunning not to use the time to get to know what he was really like. His consistent ability to simultaneously take in information and entertain Teddy had probably been the first thing she had spotted.

“We don’t have a curfew,” he droned, “but we will be punished if we fall asleep in class. We can visit Hogsmeade every weekend if we want to. We will be getting careers advice over the next few weeks and apprenticeships start next month. We should look out for younger students. And we should all see a Mind Healer.”

McGonagall gave a small nod. “Ten points to Slytherin.” Weasley just about managed to keep his mouth shut. “Now, Professor Brooks will lead you to your common room. Goodnight.”

The young teacher stepped forward from where she had been hovering, a small smile on her face. Draco looked at her for just a moment before quickly averting his gaze, not wanting to draw unwanted attention to himself. He stood, pulling Theo up beside him as gentle as he could manage, shooing Izzy away when she tried to help. For Merlin’s sake, she was barely able to carry her own weight, not to mention Theo’s. Theo let out a soft whimper but allowed Draco to carry most of his weight as they shuffled after the others. Brooks led them out of the hall and towards the grand staircase. Instead of moving up it, though, they followed her around the back of it and through a hidden doorway into a narrow corridor. Theo’s grip on instantly tightened and Draco saw Izzy’s smile drop into a scowl, her eyes darting around nervously.

“Breath,” he murmured into Theo’s ear. “You’re safe.”

Theo trembled but forced himself to continue through the enclosed space. Obviously, their stint in Azkaban had left them both quite claustrophobic, probably touch starved too. The group halted, having reached a dead end, and Brooks raised her wand, tapping the bare wall. 

“As you can see,” she instructed, pointing at where the wall was shimmering. “To enter your common room, you will have to answer a question related to another House, most likely by asking a classmate for help. For example: what is the name of Rowena Ravenclaw’s daughter?”

She looked to the Ravenclaws, but to Draco’s astonishment, it was Potter who answered.

“It was Helena, wasn’t it? The Grey Lady?” The raven-haired boy asked tentatively.

The wall seemed to have heard him because the bricks magically moved aside to reveal a large common room, complete with a crackling fire and cosy armchairs. There were four doors, two on each side of the room which clearly led to their dorms. The walls were a dark purple colour and various windows displayed a spectacular view of the grounds. Draco completely ignored Brooks’ explanation of the rules and set-up of the common room. Instead, he gestured to the sofa right at the back of the room, allowing Izzy to help him guide a shaking Theo towards it. It was just large enough to fit two people sitting side by side, so Draco and Izzy sat, allowing Theo to drape his weary body over their laps. Theo’s eyes flickered shut and he hummed softly as he pressed his face into Izzy’s side. Draco ran his fingers along his boyfriend’s leg and Izzy’s head dropped onto his shoulder.

“Are you ok, Dray?”

Draco’s lips twitched and he turned his head to meet Izzy’s gaze. “No. But… maybe things will get better. For all of us.”

“I hope so.” His cousin nodded, carefully running a hand through Theo’s hair. The boy didn't stir, but his breathing hitched slightly and he let out a low sigh that sounded almost like a purr. Around them, the other Eighth Years were sinking into armchairs as close to the fire as they could manage, chatting avidly with one another. Blaise and Daphne had sunk to the floor beside their sofa, arms wrapped around each other, talking quietly. Brooks had finished her speech and left them alone.

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered. 

Izzy raised her head again, giving him one of her best unimpressed looks. “For what?” 

Draco just looked at her. He didn’t deserve the understanding expression her face melted into, or the gentle fingers tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m glad you were able to get out when you did. We both are.”

One glance in Theo’s direction showed that he was listening and that he agreed with Izzy. The dark-haired boy’s fingers worked to seamlessly grasp Draco’s hand and squeeze.

“What was it you told me once?” Izzy continued softly. “Slytherins don’t apologise. They don’t say ‘thank you’. Let’s just look out for one another. Hmmm? Get through this year and the next. Then all of us are free.” 

Draco gave a stiff nod, holding back tears only for the sake of his pride. There were Gryffindors in the room after all. Speaking of Gryffindors, Weasley was having a rather animated conversation regarding the organisation of the dorms. 

“They’re Slytherins! What does she expect?” Weasley threw his arms into the air. “And she puts us…” He gestured to the three of them. “In the same room as convicted Death Eaters. There’s no way they won’t try to do us in by the end of the year. I mean, he’s Malfoy. At least if Zabini was in the room, we’d die looking at nice cheekbones, all we’ll see now is his pointy chin.”

The surrounding students choked on their laughter, but Izzy’s jeering cackle brought them all to a halt. 

“That is the most Gryffindor insult I’ve ever heard!” She let out a soft scream of mirth, her eyes fixed on Weasley. 

Blaise snorted. “Yeah. I appreciate the compliment, Weasley, but you’re not my type. Your lips will never grace these cheekbones.”

Weasley went bright red and he spluttered incomprehensibly as Granger tried to hide her smile behind her hand as Blaise continued.

“If you were a Slytherin, you would have said that the best way to defeat him is to hide the mirror, so he can’t look at his reflection, or lock him out of the bathroom, which is where he spends most of his time…” 

Draco groaned, hiding his face in his hands. Daphne was howling and Blaise wiped tears from his eyes. Theo had opened his eyes and rolled onto his back, wearing a pained expression from trying not to laugh. Both Slytherins rose to introduce themselves to Izzy. Weasley looked at them, openmouthed. Granger and Potter both looked slightly confused as Draco gave a small smile, laughing along with his friends at his own expense. The Golden Boy had obviously not expected Slytherins to be so easy-going and accepting, not to mention laugh at self-deprecating jokes. Maybe this year they could change his mind. Wouldn’t that be something? Harry Potter: Slytherin supporter. Ha.

The night went on and Theo managed to sit up onto Draco’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck and leaning his head against his shoulder. He still hadn’t spoken a word, answering his cautious questioning with fragile smiles, nods, or shakes of the head. The other Slytherins didn’t push him to talk, but neither did they ignore him. Daph pressed a kiss to his cheek and Blaise took to retelling stories of their youth in an attempt to draw a smile from the other boy’s lips. Slowly, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs made their way through their assigned doors to where their beds awaited. Soon it was just them and the Golden Trio left awake.

Daphne yawned and stretched, before announcing that she was going to bed. She hugged each of them in turn before trudging off to bed. Blaise left minutes later. Draco glanced toward Potter and his friends, wondering wearily if they would be going to bed anytime soon. Granger had her head in Potter’s lap, her eyes closed and Potter was staring into thin air. Weasley, however, had noticed him watching and had a hand on his wand.

“What are you looking at, Malfoy?” Weasley snarled. Both Granger and Potter were instantly wide awake.

Draco shook his head and looked away, hoping to avoid a fight, but Weasley was already on his feet. Draco stood quickly, grabbing Theo by the waist so he wouldn’t fall as he slid off his lap. Weasley approached them, wand in hand.

“Ron, stop!” Potter jumped to his feet, closely followed by Granger.

“Do you still think you’re better than everyone?” Weasley bared his teeth. “Because you’re not. With Daddy in prison and Mommy stuck at home, you’re nothing. You should be in Azkaban.”

“Yes,” Draco breathed, “I should. But I’m not and there’s nothing any of us can do about that. I don’t care if you take your anger out on me, but now is not the time to do it.”

Theo stepped out in front of Draco, a hand around his wrist to keep him from doing anything stupid. “I think we should go to bed. It's been a long day.”

The Gryffindors stared at him, and he gave them a tight smile. Weasley stuffed his wand back into his pocket, ripping his arm from Potter’s grip and storming into his dorm. Potter and Granger parted ways moments later, followed closely by Izzy who had become quieter and quieter as the night went on.

Theo turned to Draco, looking stronger than he had all night. “My trunk’s in the other dorm. I’m going to get changed,” he murmured. “Then I’ll come straight back here.

“Promise?” Draco slipped his hand into his boyfriend’s.

“Promise.”

They separated, moving through their assigned doors. Draco hated the idea of having to sleep in a different room from his boyfriend after seven years of being in the same dorm, but there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t risk getting sent to Azkaban. He could feel eyes upon him as he moved to the only empty bed, pulling his trunk from beneath it. Pulling the hangings around him, he slipped into his pyjamas. They were soft and seemed to soothe his aching body. He could not wait to fall asleep in them. He escaped from behind the hangings, rummaging through his trunk until he found the small tub of scar cream he had been looking for and began to make his way back to the common room. Just as he closed the door, he saw a pair of green eyes blinking at him curiously and looked away. Potter, it seemed, had been watching him.

Theo was already in the common room when he returned, kneeling on the carpet right next to the fire, staring into the dying embers. For just a moment, Draco could see the old Theo, the one who would lounge about in the Slytherin common room, sitting as close to the fire as he could to protect himself from the cold, trying to focus upon anything but the impending summer holidays. As the heirs of prominent Pureblood families, both Draco and Theo had had similar upbringings, knowing little love and care, taught not to show emotion and to look down upon others. Draco had adapted to this treatment quickly, but even Theo’s best acting didn’t save him from his irritable father’s wand. 

“Hey,” Draco breathed, so as not to startle his boyfriend.

Theo raised his head, acknowledging Draco’s presence with a tight smile. Draco took this as permission for him to approach and slid down onto the carpet beside him. Cautiously, their hands intertwined and Draco pressed a kiss to Theo’s temple.

“I have the cream,” he mumbled. “I can put it on for you.”

Theo hesitated, then gave a tiny nod.

“I’ll do your face first.” Draco forced his voice to remain calm and steady.

Theo gave another nod and turned slightly so he was facing him, his scar illuminated by the dying embers. Draco took some of the cream on the tips of his fingers and steadied Theo’s head with a hand to his jaw.

“This will sting a little.”

Theo flinched as he traced the cream over the scar, gentle fingers on damaged skin, but soon he stilled, tears glittering being his eyelids. Without waiting to be asked, he began undoing the buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders to display his chest which was covered in a spiderweb of scars reaching into his back. Draco tenderly slid the shirt away and set to work on the wounds. Theo looked away from him, tears racing each other down his cheeks. His eyes avoided both Draco and his own body. It broke Draco’s heart. Draco ducked his head, his lips ghosting over Theo’s stomach, over the bite mark which was proof of what Greyback had done to him, of how his life now revolved around a lunar cycle.

“You’re so beautiful, mon beau” he whispered, pressing his lips firmly against the mark. “Scars and all.”

He looked up to see that Theo was giving him a fragile smile, lips quivering. “I don’t care what they look like,” he said wearily. “It’s what they signify that I hate.”

Draco straightened, pressing a fleeting kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “That you’re a survivor?” He tucked a strand of hair behind Theo’s ear. “That you looked the Dark Lord in the eye and refused to do his bidding? That you’re a fighter?”

“That I’m a werewolf,” Theo snapped. “Just like this mark…” He raised his left arm. “…reminds me that I’m a Death Eater. I’m a monster on two fronts. I’m nothing more than a vicious animal that followed a mad man to my doom.”

Draco glared at him for a second, before moving behind him to deal with the scars on his back. He rested his chin on his shoulder, muttering right into Theo’s ear. “You, Theodore Nott, are a smart, brave, kind, cunning, amazing person. You are not an animal, and you are not a monster, so don’t ever say anything like that again. I know you are hurting, but don’t take that pain out on yourself because it will only make things worse. You’re a beautiful person and I won’t lose you to this hate. I love you too much.”

Theo swallowed a lump in his throat and choked back a sob. “I love you too. It’s just hard. People will hate me for something I have no control over. They already do. I was sentenced to two years in Azkaban because I was associated with G- Greyback. And for the rest of my life, that’s all I’ll ever be: a w- werewolf.”

“A hot werewolf,” Draco growled, running his fingers down Theo’s spine. Theo shuddered and arched into the touch. “But you’re also a really powerful wizard, a loyal friend, an amazing boyfriend and the greatest Slytherin since Salazar himself. And that tops Merlin, Theo.”

The boy gave a short huff of laughter and turned his head to kiss Draco fully. Draco put a hand to the back of Theo’s neck, pressing their foreheads together so they could look each other in the eye. At that moment, his vulnerability was undeniable.

“Can I sleep with you?” Theo’s lower lip trembled. “Just for tonight?”

Draco wrapped his arms around him. “Of course, mon amour.” Theo had been there for him after the Battle of Hogwarts, and now, when the dust had settled, Draco would be there for him too. 


	9. Howlers, Muggle Studies and the Wolfish Professor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy gave a short huff of laughter and turned his head to kiss Draco fully. Draco put a hand to the back of Theo’s neck, pressing their foreheads together so they could look each other in the eye. At that moment, his vulnerability was undeniable.
> 
> “Can I sleep with you?” Theo’s lower lip trembled. “Just for tonight?”
> 
> Draco wrapped his arms around him. “Of course, mon amour.” Theo had been there for him after the Battle of Hogwarts, and now, when the dust had settled, Draco would be there for him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your support! So, here's chapter 9. I honestly didn't think I would get this far!
> 
> There is some period-typical homophobia in this one, but it is shut down pretty quickly.
> 
> Be safe!

“So, have they told you what they’ve organised for Sunday?”

They were walking through the entrance of the common room on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Draco could smell the scent of bacon and scrambled eggs wafting towards them enticingly from the hall nearby. Theo had told them that he could smell what was cooking in the kitchens beneath them, reporting that lunch would most likely consist of sausages, mashed potatoes and gravy, something that pleased him greatly. After an early morning shower, both Draco’s boyfriend and cousin looked largely better than the night before, despite the dark shadows they still wore beneath their eyes. Izzy’s hair was an explosion of a ponytail on the top of her head, the different shades of brown in it perfectly recognisable now that the dirt had been vanished, and her dark skin practically glowed compared to how it had looked last night. Theo’s hair was now unmatted, all of the blood that had hidden beneath it cleansed from existence. The scar cream had done its work, causing the scar on his cheek to fade slightly, dulling from an angry red to a light pink in colour. 

The werewolf hissed at the mention of the upcoming full moon but gave Izzy a short nod. “The Shrieking Shack,” he mumbled. “Since it's too late to take the potion, they’re going to send an animagus down with me to… to make sure I don’t hurt myself.”

Draco squeezed his hand gently. “But they will give it to you next month?”

He let out a small sigh of relief when his boyfriend nodded rigidly, giving a tense smile. “Next month,” he repeated wearily, leaning into Draco slightly.

The group entered the Great Hall, a fair few heads swivelling to stare at them as they passed, gossiping inaudibly to their friends. Draco tried his best to ignore them, pulling out his new Muggle Studies book to flick through as he sat down at the end of the Slytherin table. Even a few of the snakes stood up to move to a seat further away from the trio of former Death Eaters. Draco pulled a bowl towards him and began deliberately pouring himself a full helping of cornflakes, covering them with a generous amount of milk. It did not evade his notice as he completed this task, that Izzy and Theo were eyeing the food in front of them warily, as though unsure of whether they were allowed to eat. Draco sighed, picking up Theo’s hand and pressing a kiss into the palm of it before reaching for the toast, buttering a slice for each of them. Theo laid his head on Draco’s shoulder as he worked and Izzy muttered a quiet apology. 

Draco shushed her. “It’s not your fault, Izzy. Just eat as much as you can.” He ran an absent finger across her cheek, brushing away a stray tear. “We snakes look out for one another.”

Izzy nodded tearily and pulled both Draco and Theo into a tight hug. When they finally disentangled themselves from each other, Theo and Izzy began to slowly pick at their food, teasing it into their mouths, being careful not to spit it out despite the harsh taste of it against their unaccustomed tongues. 

“So,” Izzy said hesitantly between nibbles. “What do you think about that group therapy thing that was on the noticeboard this morning?” 

Draco sighed. “I’ve needed to see a Mind Healer since I was four-years-old, so I don’t exactly have an excuse not to go, and it’s not like they’ll waste their time giving me a session on my own, but with my luck, I’ll end up with a bunch of Gryffindors.”

“Hermione’s not bad,” Theo said kindly. “If you apologise for being a stuck-up git, you could make a powerful ally.”

Draco glanced over at the Gryffindor table, where the dark-skinned girl was arguing with her red-headed boyfriend. Words weren’t something that could convince her that he had changed. No apology would show her that he wanted to be different, that he wasn’t who he used to be.  _ Actions, not words. _ He let out a slow breath of air.

“I just want to stay out of their way. Trouble follows them and I have no interest in being dragged into one of their adventures.”

Theo gave a small nod. “Fair enough.” He turned back to his toast, which was almost halfway done, and grimaced. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to finish this.”

Izzy had already pushed away her plate, looking slightly sick.

Draco shrugged sympathetically. “Don’t worry. I’ll owl Andy to get her to send some nutrient potions tonight.”

Izzy grinned. “That woman is my new hero.”

“Same,” both boys answered at the same time, looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Their giggles, however, were drowned out by a ferocious shriek.

“DRACO MALFOY!!!” A howler had been dropped onto the table in front of them and burst open when they hadn’t noticed it smouldering perilously. “HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOU FACE AT THAT SCHOOL! MY CHILD HAS BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH WITHOUT YOU AND YOUR DEATH EATER FRIENDS SHOWING UP AND TERRORIZING HIM AT HOGWARTS TOO! IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU, YOU WILL PACK YOUR BAG AND JOIN YOUR NO-GOOD, MURDERER FATHER IN AZKABAN! IF YOU DON’T LEAVE HOGWARTS BY THE END OF THE WEEK, MY NEXT LETTER WILL CARRY A CURSE!!!”

Draco was on his feet before the letter had finished tearing itself to shreds. Izzy and Theo jumped up and ran after him. The howler’s words were echoing in his ears, drowning out even the jeering laughter coming from some of the students. He sped away from all the judging stares, tears in his eyes, making it all the way to the third floor before he collapsed, sliding down against the wall and pressing his face into his knees, taking in quick rasping breaths that didn’t quite reach his lungs. Hot tears trickled down his cheeks, staining his robes, and his shoulders shook violently. He didn’t hear the footsteps as his boyfriend and cousin raced to his side, but the feel of Theo’s lips on the top of his head forced him to raise his silver eyes to meet the blue. 

“S-sorry,” he gasped. He hated that all it took was a howler to set him off. He hated that he was making them look after him when it should be the other way around. But hearing those words spat at him in the crowded hall, and all those faces that so obviously agreed with the speaker. It hurt. And it hurt because they were right, all of them. He didn’t deserve to be free.

Izzy shook her head, rubbing his back firmly until he could breath better. He leaned his head back against the wall, forcing air into his lungs, forcing his vision to stop swimming and his mind to stop racing. There was a long silence, during which Draco noticed distantly that Izzy had grabbed his Muggle Studies book before going after him. Theo gently ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, trying to soothe him, giving one of his shy smiles.

“I never did mention…” he gestured to the white-blonde hair. “ … I like it long. It’s one hundred times better than when you had it slicked back.”

Draco gave a soft chuckle. “I have to agree with you there.” 

Izzy smiled at the two of them and held out her hand. “Let’s go find our classroom. We wouldn’t want to be late.”

~~~ 

Another addition to the rules this year was that Muggle Studies, like when Alecto Carrow was teaching it, was compulsory. This meant that Draco would be sharing the class with all the other Eighth Years. Luckily, when they reached the door to their classroom, everyone else was still in the Great Hall. They sat side by side against the wall, purposefully avoiding the topic of the howler, something that Draco was extremely grateful for. He doesn’t want to think about that right now. His head drooped to fall onto Theo’s shoulder and after a moment he felt his boyfriend cautiously tangle his finger into his hair, his lips ghosting over his temple. 

“What are you doing here?”

Theo’s touch retracted suddenly as the two of them jerked apart, blushing, looking up to Professor Shaw, their Muggle Studies teacher, striding towards them, closely followed by none other than the Golden Trio themselves. And they had all seen. They all knew. There was no talking his way out of this one because they had found out he was gay. The wizarding world may be slightly more tolerable to people like them than the muggle one, but that did not mean that their peers would not use this as a weapon if they felt the obligation. 

Weasley, who had been staring at them open-mouthed, was now sporting an expression halfway between disgust and glee. Potter looked slightly confused, a small frown on his face, as though he was thinking hard, his eyes flitting between the two of them until his expression flooded with realisation and he blushed. Granger glanced at her two friends and rolled her eyes. Of course, she had probably known about their relationship for a while now. She was too smart for her own good.

Izzy gave the other girl a small coy smile, completely ignoring the boys. “Mornin’ Granger,” she drawled flirtatiously, making the girl’s eyes widen in surprise as Izzy turned lazily to Shaw, changing her smile to a sincere one. “We were just waiting to go into class, Professor. We didn’t want to be late, and I had a few questions I wanted to ask you about the coursework we will be doing and what we will be studying since we only have one year left in school.”

Potter groaned, glancing between Izzy and Granger, muttering something that sounded an awful lot like, “oh, great. Another one.” Granger clipped him across the back of his head without looking away from Izzy, her eyes alight with interest. 

Shaw sighed, probably annoyed at not finding a reason to punish them. “Get into class and keep quiet. Save your questions for later."

It became clear at once that Shaw didn’t like them one bit. Draco couldn’t blame her, really. As a muggleborn, she must have spent most of the war on the run, or perhaps in Azkaban. Once all their peers had arrived, she asked them to split into groups; those who had grown up in the muggle world on one side, and those unfamiliar with everything to do with muggles on the other. Theo and Draco had taken to the latter side alongside Blaise, Daphne, Zacharias Smith and, unfortunately, Weasley, as well as all the other purebloods in the group. Meanwhile, Izzy joined Granger, Potter and the rest of the class that had grown up with muggles. 

“I’m afraid, Ms Lestrange, that you are on the wrong side of the classroom.”

Izzy glanced around her before answering Shaw. “No, Professor. I’m definitely where I ought to be. And I actually go by Black now. They just haven’t changed it on the register yet.”

Shaw seemed to ignore her entirely. “If you don’t stop interrupting my class, I will be forced to speak to the Headmistress. Now, join the rest of the purebloods.”

“But, I grew up in the muggle world,” Izzy pleaded. Draco silently implored her to let it go, but as with all things that were close to her heart, she didn’t. “My foster parents were muggles. My brother was a wizard, but he was muggleborn! I attended a muggle primary school…”

“I will not ask you again, Lestrange!” There was an unspoken warning in Shaw’s voice.

Izzy flinched, tears swallowing her chocolate eyes and her voice wavered slightly, no more than a whisper. “Sorry, Professor.”

She strode to Draco’s side, not meeting anyone’s eye. Once they were all seated, the trio sharing a table at the back, Draco noticed that Izzy had taken her left forearm between her fingernails, digging into the flesh through the sleeve of her cloak. Without looking away from Shaw as she lectured, he ducked his hand under the table, detaching Izzy’s fingers from around her arm and slowly pulling up her sleeve, gently rubbing his thumb up and down her forearm. Her breath hitched as he massaged the abused skin that was her Dark Mark, but soon she had relaxed into his touch and was making notes on a piece of parchment, back to her usual self. 

Draco didn’t know why he had done it, or why she had allowed it. He hadn’t even let anyone but Theo  _ see _ his mark, not since he had received it. However, he wasn’t totally averse to sharing the burden that was his left forearm with his cousin and boyfriend, so maybe he could understand Izzy at this moment. When the bell rang, she pulled away from him, hurriedly tugging down her sleeve and escaping the classroom at as close to a sprint as she could manage without getting detention.

~~~

The Potions classroom, which had for so long -for him- been dubbed ‘Uncle Sev’s room’, was already filled with swirling smoke of multiple different colours and densities when they arrived there. Draco could recognise most of the potions Professor Brooks had laid out for them to study. The light red potion at the back of the classroom was a blood replenisher, the clear one: Veritaserum, the shimmering gold one: Felix Felicis -liquid luck- and the one closest to her desk was Polyjuice. Theo stiffened beside him as he recognised the brew closest to where they were standing: the wolfsbane potion. There was a sort of longing in the way he looked at it. It broke Draco’s already fragile heart. When they sat down, it was with the promise of silence. 

Parvati Patil screamed.

A hulking silver wolf had padded into the room. It lolloped up to the teacher’s desk before promptly transforming into their Potions Master. Theo let out a small snort of laughter that caught everyone in the room by surprise as his lips twitched into a smirk, his eyes on Professor Brooks, obviously finding her animagus form quite hilarious, but the rest of the class took it the wrong way entirely.

“Leave her alone, you gay freak!” Ron snarled, putting an arm around Patil.

Theo flinched, pressing close to Draco’s suddenly stiffened form. They weren’t the only ones who reacted. Izzy’s eyes were burning hateful holes into the side of Weasley’s face, Granger had given a startled yelp, taken aback by what her boyfriend had said, Potter wrapped his arms tight around himself, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan looked away from each other, hurt visible behind their eyes and Blaise jumped to his feet, furious.

“Watch your tongue, Weasley!”

“Why, Zabini? I’m just saying it as it is! I saw him and Malfoy before class this morning.”

“Enough!” The whole room froze. It seemed that all of them had forgotten that there was a teacher in the room. Brooks strode down from where she had been standing. “Please sit down, Blaise. And you, Mr Weasley!” She glared at him. “One hundred points from Gryffindor house! I cannot believe you just said that to your classmate! If I hear that anything like this has happened again, you will be in detention for the rest of the year. Do you understand?”

Weasley gaped. “But…”

Brooks’ voice was deadly quiet. “Do you like scrubbing cauldrons, Weasley? Because if you want, I can arrange for you to start this evening. No? Then I repeat: do you understand?”

“Yes, Professor.”

Brooks gave him one final glare before turning back to the class. “Are you alright, Theo, Draco?”

They both gave her a weary smile and a nod. Draco forced himself to stop gaping at her. He hadn’t expected that anyone would stand up to that kind of prejudice, especially not for him and Theo. 

“Please stay behind at the end of class,” Brooks said kindly to them. “And anyone else who wishes to talk, whether they are my snakes or not, my door is always open.”

Draco noticed that Thomas and Finnigan had caught each other’s eyes, nodding subtly, silently deciding to talk to the Slytherin Head of House.

“Great!” Brooks was back to her usual cheery self. "Now, who can tell me about these potions?”

From that moment on, the class was actually pretty great. Brooks was an excellent teacher and had explained all of the potions in detail before instructing them to begin concocting the blood replenisher. They had all been sorted into pairs to brew, Draco immediately choosing Theo, who would need as much help as he could get with the class, especially when his senses were dialled up to eleven just before the full moon and he could barely concentrate. Somehow, Izzy had managed to pair up with Granger and they had become the best of friends by the time the class was over. In fact, the day as a whole could have been much much worse. And lying in his four-poster bed trying to stave off sleep, fearing the nightmares that would no doubt accompany drifting off alone, he endeavoured to remember that. 


	10. What Frightens You Most

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From that moment on, the class was actually pretty great. Brooks was an excellent teacher and had explained all of the potions in detail before instructing them to begin concocting the blood replenisher. They had all been sorted into pairs to brew, Draco immediately choosing Theo, who would need as much help as he could get with the class, especially when his senses were dialled up to eleven just before the full moon and he could barely concentrate. Somehow, Izzy had managed to pair up with Granger and they had become the best of friends by the time the class was over. In fact, the day as a whole could have been much much worse. And lying in his four-poster bed trying to stave off sleep, fearing the nightmares that would no doubt accompany drifting off alone, he endeavoured to remember that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. This chapter was so much harder to write than the others and so, it took an extra week to post. I'll try to have the next one up within the two weeks this time. 
> 
> However, this chapter we get to revisit the Room of Requirement, boggarts and the DADA classroom. If you have any thoughts on any of the fears, please leave a comment below.
> 
> Enjoy!

Friday morning came and went, and Draco was slightly surprised to find that they had survived the week with only minor burns from stinging jinxes to show from it. Weasley was still a git, throwing around insults like they were juggling balls, often egged on by Thomas, Finnigan and a few other Gryffindors, but it had never advanced to wands, so it wasn’t too bad. It seemed that Weasley had learned his lesson in Potions and hadn’t mentioned Draco’s relationship with Theo since Wednesday. Knowles had made his dislike for them quite clear, stalking the corridors in the hopes of finding them where they weren’t meant to be. He had made it impossible for them to do something as simple as taking a stroll through the grounds. There was only one class left before they had the whole weekend ahead of them. However, that meant enduring through lunch and Defense before they were free, and, seeing the way Theo was holding off a massive headache, his hands shaking as he stared into the Great Hall, Draco wasn’t exactly filled with confidence. 

“I can’t do this,” Theo murmured, a pained expression on his beautiful face. 

Draco slipped his hand into his boyfriend’s, being careful not to squeeze too tightly. He knew that this close to the full moon, the werewolf’s bones would seem more fragile and uncomfortable. He gave Izzy a meaningful stare, jerking his head towards the staircase behind them. 

“Come on,” he sighed. 

They couldn’t spend the break in some abandoned classroom, or wandering the corridors. It wasn’t just Knowles who held a personal grudge against them. Most teachers would give them detention as soon as look at them. There was only one place in this whole school that he knew they would not be found and forced into the boisterous atmosphere of the Great Hall. But, it was the place he had stood when, one by one, the Death Eaters had stepped out of the vanishing cabinet. It was the place he had watched his friend burn to death. It was the place he had nearly died, had Potter not swooped in at the last moment. Draco didn’t want to return to the seventh-floor corridor, he didn’t want to make the door appear, but there wasn’t really any other choice. They needed somewhere to get away from everyone. They needed the Room of Requirement. 

When Theo caught sight of the statue of Barnabus the Barmy, he froze, reaching out to lay a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Dray,” he breathed. “We don’t have to…”

Draco shook his head, cutting him off. “It’s fine.”

Izzy glanced between the two of them suspiciously. “I feel like I’m missing something here. Where are we?”

Theo bit his lip, casting a nervous glance in Draco’s direction as the blonde ran his fingers nervously through his hair. 

Draco took a deep calming breath and gestured to the wall opposite them. “Walk past it three times thinking of what you need and it’ll give it to you.”

Izzy raised an eyebrow sceptically, giving him a piercing stare before shrugging and obeying his instructions. She took long steps, striding past the wall with a look of extreme concentration, wringing her hands slightly. She noticed Theo opening his mouth to speak, but Draco gave him a ferocious look and the dark-haired boy lowered his gaze meekly, staying quiet. On her third turn past the wall, she gasped as a door materialised right in front of her. Draco shuddered, but pressed past her suddenly grim expression, shouldering his way into the room. He let out a small sigh of relief. He was not in the Room of Hidden Things. This adaptation of the Room of Requirement came in the form of a cosy-looking sitting room. The floor was covered in a soft grey carpet, a small sofa taking up one of the walls, cushions piled in one corner and a large bookshelf in the other. The whole room was bathed in a dim glow that would easily help with Theo’s headache.

He pivoted, a hesitant smile directed at the others. “Welcome to the Room of Requirement.”

Izzy glanced around, a fragile smile playing on her lips.

Theo leaned against the doorway. “Are you sure…”

Draco gave him a small smirk. “It’s not the same. It’s actually really nice.” 

Izzy took Theo’s arm and dragged him inside, but when the two boys slid onto the floor, arms wrapped around each other, Theo’s dark head of hair in the blonde’s lap, she stayed standing. She had a slightly manic grin on her lips, though Draco supposed that having Bellatrix’s genes made her look crazy whatever she did. Her boots were muffled against the carpet, but the ruffle of fabric as she moved behind them told Draco she had skipped over to the bookshelf and was no doubt running her fingers over the stiff spines. She returned a moment later, flopping onto the floor in front of them, bearing a large pack of Muggle markers.

Draco gave her an unimpressed look. “There is no way I am letting you draw all over me with those things,” he drawled.

Theo laughed weakly. “You take the fun out of everything, Dragon.”

Draco ran his fingers through Theo’s hair, sticking out his tongue. “I am fun! Is it wrong to want to protect my perfect skin from those monstrosities.” 

“Come on, Draconis,” Izzy pleaded. “It’ll give you something else to focus on.”

“What are you blabbering on about?”

Izzy pulled up her sleeve, revealing her Dark Mark. Swirls of faded colour circled the ugly tattoo, taking the form of an emerald-eyed snake, the shadow of a dementor and a braid of daisies. Draco slowly raised his eyes to his cousin’s face, which was, for once, emotionless.

“Minister Shacklebolt let me borrow some in Azkaban. It helped brighten the place up a bit. They wash off, but I try my best to preserve them. As I said, it gives you something else to focus on.”

Draco let out a long dramatic sigh and pulled up his sleeve. The skull emblem stood out garishly against his deathly pale skin. He shuddered, looking away quickly from the tattoo, reminded too vividly of the marking ceremony he had been forced to endure at the age of sixteen. 

Voldemort’s hand had gripped his wrist as he knelt, his wand jabbing into his forearm, burning pain emanating from his darkening skin, his throat raw from screaming. 

Izzy reached out to take his wrist in her hand and he flinched. 

“S-sorry,” he muttered, pressing his arm into her grasp. “Force of habit.”

Izzy smiled, not answering, and Theo let out a small sigh from where he had fallen asleep in his lap. Draco ruffled his boyfriend’s hair, keeping his left arm perfectly still as a bright red marker met his skin and the ink began to spread.

~~~

They arrived at the DADA classroom just before the warning bell attempted to deafen them. Theo was still slightly drowsy after his nap, but he was managing to nibble on a square of chocolate as they approached. 

  
“Hermione,” Theo greeted Granger, who was waiting eagerly outside the door. 

“Hey, Theo,” Granger frowned. “Are you ok? You look sick.”

Theo did indeed look sick, but they all knew that Granger could not know the cause for his being under the weather. The werewolf boy smiled weakly. “I’ll be fine. I can sleep it off tomorrow.”

Granger didn’t look convinced, but they were saved from any further conversation by Knowles, who pulled open the classroom door. He was menacing. There was no other word that could accurately describe the way he loomed over them in the entrance. “In,” he growled, stumping moodily back to his desk. 

The Slytherins, including Blaise and Daphne, could sense that this class would not go in their favour, and immediately took seats right at the back of the room, attempting to melt into the shadows.

  
“Alright,” Knowles barked, causing a few people to jump. “I have a year to get you ready to take your NEWTs and teach you how to hold your own in a duel. Today’s class will be the first building block in this path. The first thing you have to remember is that everyone fears something. Your enemy will take advantage of that and you need to learn how to defend against whatever they might throw your way. Today we will be finding out each other’s worst fears in the hopes that next class, you will be able to use them against your classmates in a duel. You have all faced boggarts before, so this will be a relatively simple class.” He motioned towards one of the cabinets. “Who wants to go first?”

He was met with a heavy silence. The Gryffindors looked to the Ravenclaws, who looked to the Hufflepuffs, who looked to the Slytherins, who carefully began examining their fingernails. No one seemed even slightly willing to volunteer.

Knowles eyes the class for a second, before sneering, his eyes on the Slytherin group. “Malfoy, come up here.”

Draco raised his eyes slowly, taking a deep calming breath. He felt Theo squeeze his thigh and gave him a fragile smile, standing up, trudging reluctantly to the top of the class. He doubted his boggart had changed since Third Year, but then only the Slytherins had been watching and they had known what he was experiencing at home. He caught Blaise and Daphne’s eyes, noting the worry there, noting how Blaise seemed about ready to jump up from his seat, and he shook his head the most insignificant amount. The door of the cupboard slid open and a pale hand gripped the edge of it, a long cane clicking against the ground as Lucius Malfoy stepped towards him. There were a few gasps from behind him and someone screamed as the cane came cracking against his cheek. Draco unfroze, his cheek stinging, and pulled his wand from inside his robes.

“Riddikulus!” 

He turned away, striding back to his seat, not watching as his father’s hair came out of its elegant ponytail and attempted to strangle him. Theo pressed a kiss to his temple and Izzy squeezed his hand. The classroom was so quiet that when Knowles spoke, a few people jumped in shock.

“You should be writing this down. Your homework will be to find a way to use each of these fears against your classmates.”

People scrambled for their bags and began scratching out notes onto spare pieces of parchment. Draco took out two pieces of parchment with shaking hands, neatly scrawling his fear onto one of them and sliding it over to Theo, whose fingers had been cramping up that morning. As others were called up, he wrote down their names and fears for the both of them. Many people’s fears differed from what Draco had heard in their Third Year. The Gryffindor Patil twin had sobbed over the mangled body of Lavender Brown, while her sister had barely batted an eye as the Carrows loomed over her. Longbottom had wrinkled his nose at the burning Sorting Hat that had appeared, before dousing it in cold water, leaving it dripping and soggy. Daphne flinched at the sight of her sister, Astoria, who was very much alive, lying in a pool of blood. Somehow, Weasley’s boggart had managed to remain an acromantula, while Draco swore Granger’s came in the form of her boyfriend, though it vanished too fast for him to be sure. Potter grimaced at the sight of a fluttering veil, something Draco couldn’t understand. Blaise returned from meeting the body of Sally, their fellow Slytherin who had died during the Battle of Hogwarts, with his face wet with tears. 

Izzy was next. When she faced the boggart, she was met with eerie brown eyes and a cruel sneer on lips that were supposed to be her own. She was met with a sharper, more callous version of herself that left her looking surprised at first. But then the figure opened its mouth and Izzy’s expression stilled.

“Mudbloods, blood traitors and half breeds!” There were gasps all around them. “You consort with filth, Isadora Bellatrix Lestrange! Our mother would be so very disappointed in you. Her blood is wasted in preserving your body.”

Izzy raised her wand. “I. Don’t. Care… Riddikulus!” 

When she moved back to her seat, Theo stood and hugged her from behind, whispering something comforting into her ear. She didn’t have time to reply before Knowles noticed them. “Nott!”

Theo flinched at the loud noise and raised his eyes carefully to the Professor. “Yes, sir?” His voice trembled. 

Knowles grinned cruelly. “Your turn.”

The dark-haired boy knew not to complain, and Draco knew not to argue with the ex-Auror, but they both knew Theo was in no condition to face his worst fear. His magic always got worse this close to the full moon. Theo limped to the top of the class, facing the boggart with a lot more bravery than he felt. The boggart sneered at him, before twisting its shape into Fenrir Greyback. Someone screamed. Theo’s wand clattered to the floor and he jerked away from the werewolf. Greyback loped after him, grinning toothily, a soft growl echoing through the classroom. Theo’s legs came out from under him and the boggart crouched, putting a sharp nail beneath the boy’s chin, forcing him to look up. Tear tracks scarred Theo’s cheeks, his chest rising and falling fast, but no air reached his lungs. 

“P-please,” he rasped.

Greyback laughed. “The Dark Lord warned you, Nott. He told you what would happen.” He leaned in, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips, his free hand reaching out to stroke Theo’s cheek almost lovingly. “I can’t wait to feel your blood running down my throat. And then you’ll be mine, little one. Mine forever.”

Draco was on his feet, a curse flying from his wand, banishing the boggart back into the wardrobe it had climbed out of. He fell to his knees beside his boyfriend, feeling him flinch when he put his arms around him. He raised his head, looking up into Draco’s silver eyes, still gasping for breath and crying silently. Draco released him slowly and took one of Theo’s hands, placing it on his chest.

“Breathe, Theo,” he murmured. “I know it’s hard, but you have to try. Just follow my breathing.” He caressed the back of Theo’s hand as he spoke. “In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.” Theo was slowly beginning to calm down. “That’s right. You’re safe here. I’ve got you.” 

He reached over and picked up his boyfriend’s wand, stowing it inside his robes, continuing to rub circles over Theo’s back. A shadow loomed over them and Draco looked up, meeting Knowles’ eye.

“He needs to go to the Hospital Wing, sir. Please, I’ll take him.” 

“No, you won’t,” Knowles growled. “Back to your seats, both of you. He’s fine. Twenty points from Slytherin for interrupting the lesson, Malfoy.” 

“But, sir!” Draco’s head shot around to stare at Potter, who was standing, surveying the scene with a shocked expression. “He really should go to the Hospital Wing. He needs a calming draught.”

Draco shook his head vigorously, trying to warn Potter to stay out of this and not make it worse, but it was too late. The Golden Boy was just as oblivious to what was happening as he was before the war. Of course, the Gryffindor Hero wouldn’t understand that now was a time that self-preservation was important. He wouldn’t understand that he was putting them in more danger by speaking out. 

“Sit down, Mr Potter.” Knowles was angry now. There was no doubt about it. 

Draco jumped to his feet, pulling a still quivering Theo into his arms. “We’ll sit down too, sir.”

Knowles sneered. “You do that, Malfoy. And another twenty points for not obeying my instruction fast enough.”

Draco gave a small nod and half-carried Theo to his seat. He didn’t much care about the points being taken. It wasn’t as if Slytherin had any hope of winning with all this prejudice floating around and he honestly had other things to be worrying about. Namely, the fact the Theo was still trembling against his chest, his hands gripping his robes, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Class ended abruptly and Draco helped Theo stand, allowing Izzy to trail behind them miserably as they limped from the room. His boyfriend’s eyes were bloodshot and the whole experience seemed to have taken all the mental and physical strength from his body. As they rounded the corner, someone grabbed Draco’s forearm, right over his Dark Mark. He flinched and yanked his hand away, but the grip tightened.

“Why did you let him do that?” Potter seemed angry. He would have laughed at him, had he not been so frightened.

“Let go of me, Potter,” his words came out as a plea instead of the snarl he had intended. 

Seeming to realise what he had done, the Saviour’s hand pulled away as if burned. “S-sorry. I didn’t-”

“And for your information, Potter, sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut and deal with it.”

“I was just trying to help!”

“I know you were,” he breathed, sadly. “And I appreciate it, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me since… But, people don’t like to see the Saviour of the Wizarding World standing up for a Death Eater.” He saw reality dawn upon Potter’s face. “Let people say what they want to say. As I said on Tuesday, it’s better for us to stay out of each other’s way.”

He put his arm back around Theo’s shoulders and they shuffled towards the Hospital Wing, not looking back to see the stunned look Potter threw at their retreating backs before his friends caught up to him and dragged him away. They didn’t hear him whisper resentfully to himself, words that were not meant for anyone else’s ears.

“I don’t want you to appreciate that I told the truth. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Question Time:
> 
> Is there anything you want to see in this story?
> 
> Any specific scenes?
> 
> Any characters/ships/settings you want to see more of?
> 
> Anything you want me to explore?


	11. Hiding Amongst the Serpents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He put his arm back around Theo’s shoulders and they shuffled towards the Hospital Wing, not looking back to see the stunned look Potter threw at their retreating backs before his friends caught up to him and dragged him away. They didn’t hear him whisper resentfully to himself, words that were not meant for anyone else’s ears.
> 
> “I don’t want you to appreciate that I told the truth. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... I'm not dead!  
> I have finally made good on the promises I have been making in the comments section. Another chapter, and only four and a half months late.  
> Please don't kill me. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has been commenting. You all gave me the strength to finish this chapter. I will continue to update this story at a slower pace than I set out to, but I will not give up. 
> 
> I am no quitter! -This is what I've been chanting inside my head for the last five months. Lol.
> 
> Anyway, a Harry POV chapter with lots of Slytherins, because I love my snakes.

Harry was avoiding Ron. He had decided to do so as he had woken, just before sunrise. He couldn’t stand his friend ranting about Slytherins for one more second, so he had lied. He had claimed he had homework to finish and he had run for it before his friends could object. That was why he had hidden himself away in the corner of the library early on a Sunday morning. And he  _ was _ enjoying himself. He was most definitely not bored. And he certainly wasn’t missing his friends’ griping. He wasn’t spying his Slytherin peers to pass the time.

Zabini was lounging back in his chair, gossiping with Greengrass, who had her head buried in a book, the title of which he couldn’t make out. She raised her head every few seconds to nod or smile at something the dark-skinned boy had said but remained otherwise silent. Isadora, whose chosen last name reminded him too much of his godfather for him to use it comfortably, was sitting behind Greengrass, twisting her hair into a long plait behind her back and chatting amicably with Zabini. Malfoy was cradling his boyfriend in his lap, running fingers through his hair and humming under his breath. Nott pressed his face desperately into the blonde’s neck; eyes squeezed shut tightly, his lips stretched into an uncomfortable grimace.

The dark-haired boy’s condition had become steadily worse as the week went on, and the disastrous DADA lesson on Friday had seemed to be his final straw. His skin was paler than ever, his hair tangled and his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. His hands shook when he lifted them, and from the way he was often seen massaging his temples, Harry had surmised that he was suffering from bad migraines as well.

He was sure that Nott had only turned up to Saturday’s group therapy session because Malfoy had wanted to attend. From what he knew, the blonde had offered to skip it for the sake of his boyfriend, but Nott had stood his ground and won the argument that had followed the suggestion. The session had been awkward at best, humiliating at worst, but once their Mind Healer, Nina, had gotten them talking, they slowly became more comfortable. The Slytherins, all of whom had attended, had been scarily capable at shifting the conversation away from themselves, opting instead to console their peers from other houses.

Malfoy had sat in an armchair with his boyfriend stretched out in his lap. Nina didn’t seem to mind this. In fact, she actively encouraged it, putting quite a bit of energy into trying to get them to talk. Harry had thought that she might cry with joy when Nott had taken Malfoy’s hands in his and massaged them as the blonde had stuttered a few short sentences about his stint in the cells beneath the Ministry. When he had finished, a raw blush already spreading over his pale skin, Nott had leaned up and pressed a congratulatory kiss to the corner of his lips.

Harry had gaped in astonishment then. He didn’t understand it. How could they sit so close and display such physical acts of affection after what Ron had said? Their disregard for what others thought of them scared Harry more than he could say. And what had been said in the first Potions class of the year frightened him even more. He had first learned about people like Malfoy and Nott from hearing Uncle Vernon hurl slurs at one of their neighbours when he was eight, so when he had found himself harbouring a secret crush on the older Hufflepuff Seeker, Cedric Diggory, he had pushed the feeling down, hoping to ignore his desire. It had worked for a while. He had dated Cho and Ginny. He knew he liked girls, but there was no denying that he also had a similar attraction to boys. However, if the Wizarding World saw that in any way near to the way Ron saw it, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be.

“You should probably stop staring,” a dreamy voice suggested from behind him. “It’s starting to seem creepy.”

He jumped and let out a frightened yelp. “Luna! Don’t sneak up on people like that!”

The blonde smiled sympathetically. “The Wrackspurts had you, didn’t they?” She waved her hand through the air, as though to swat a fly, coming dangerously close to hitting his head.

“No,” he said, ducking out of the way to avoid the girl’s hand, glancing at the Slytherins before fixing his attention on the blonde Ravenclaw. “No,” he repeated. “I was just thinking.”

“They are quite cute together, aren’t they?” She hummed. “Even Ginny thinks so.”

Harry went bright red. “S-so you’re o-ok with that sort of t-thing?” he stuttered, feeling his face heat up an embarrassing amount.

“Of course!” She smiled. “It’s only the prominent Purebloods that care, really. Because of the family line, you see. They want an heir and they believe that same-sex relationships will cause their family to die out. It’s silly really. Ginny was ever so upset about what Ron said, you know. I had to stop her from hexing him.”

“That sounds like Ginny,” Harry grinned.

Luna nodded. “She’s very fierce, isn’t she?”

Harry hummed, his eyes wandering back in the direction of the Slytherins. Luna followed his gaze and smiled.

“Let’s go say hello.” Luna took him by the arm, obviously tired of his inaction and began to drag him towards the snakes. 

“No,” Harry pulled away, but she only tightened her grip. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She ignored his pleas, dragging him across the library to the Slytherin-occupied table. “Hello,” she sang to the Slytherins.

The serpents looked over at her in surprise, and only Malfoy answered her greeting. “Hey, Luna… Potter.” He arched an eyebrow in Luna’s direction, but she just smiled knowingly.

“Harry’s avoiding Ron, so I thought he might like some company.”

Zabini snorted, leaning back on his chair. “We’ve been back five days and you’re already fed up with him. I think it’s time you find yourself some new friends, mate.”

Harry felt the sudden urge to defend himself, but before he could open his mouth, Greengrass had flicked her quill at the dark-skinned boy, causing ink to stain his clothes. “Just because you don’t like him…”

Zabini cleared the mess with a wave of his wand. “Of course I don’t like him! What do you want me to say, Daph? Because ‘I’m terribly sorry your friendship with your homophobic best mate is falling apart. He did just insult my entire existence and that of my friends, but it’s fine, I’m sure that deep down he’s not a complete asshat,’ doesn’t exactly sound sincere.” 

Harry felt a weight of guilt surge up from below his stomach, momentarily choking him. He bowed his head and scuffed his feet against the carpeted floor. “Yeah… Sorry about that. Ron doesn’t… He doesn’t think before he speaks. He didn’t really mean it.”

Zabini scoffed and Nott gave him a pitying smile. “He didn’t exactly take it back, Harry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I mean, it wouldn’t exactly change anything if he did, but it would make your point slightly more believable.” 

The other Slytherins laughed softly and Harry felt his face blush for no reason whatsoever.

“We don’t need your apologies, Harry. Izzy, Draco and I… Once you’ve been at the Aurors’ mercies, at Azkaban or the cells in the Ministry, you stop caring about what people think of you. What I’m worried about are the Ravenclaws, the Hufflepuffs, the Gryffindors who flinched when Ron said what he said. Us snakes are used to being hated. That puts us at an advantage.”

A heavy silence fell over the group and, not for the first time, Harry wasn’t sure whether or not he should speak. His shock must have shown on his face, because Isadora grinned and reached forward, rapping her knuckles hard on the table. “Seeing as Theo has decided to give our Saviour a heart attack with his heartfelt words of wisdom, I hereby call this conversation to a close,” she joked, signalling an end to the discussion and slowly, their talk turned to the career’s advice which had begun that weekend.

“Professor Brooks is just lovely,” Daphne gushed. “She was so much help. I was worried I wouldn’t have the job requirements to work in the Muggle Liaison Office, but she said I can take extra courses in Muggle Studies as part of my apprenticeship.”

“You want to work with Muggles?” Harry asked, surprised.

Greengrass nodded. “I really want to help the introduction of Muggleborns into the magical world go more smoothly. I mean, we have Muggle Studies here at Hogwarts. Why can’t we have Wizarding Studies? To teach people about wizarding traditions and holidays. Also, it doesn’t make sense that the first time that they hear about magic is when they get their Hogwarts letter. Parents should be informed from the first sign of accidental magic. It only makes sense!”

Zabini let out a long whistle, his head tilted slightly to the side. “You're onto something there, Daph.”

Surprisingly, Harry found himself agreeing with him. He could have used a class on wizarding culture throughout his years at Hogwarts. It would have helped him a lot.

“I want to be a Magizoologist,” Luna stated. “How about you, Harry?”

All eyes fell upon him and he lowered his gaze, shrugging. “I thought, maybe, after the DA… Well, I think I’d enjoy teaching.”

To his surprise, no one laughed. Malfoy hummed and nodded. “You should teach Defence. That’s your best subject, right? Merlin knows this school needs someone who knows what they’re talking about.”

Harry nodded meekly, not having expected the encouragement. “Well, my meeting with Knowles is in about half an hour, so, we’ll see.”

The Slytherins grimaced at his mention of the teacher and Luna gave an airy sigh. “I don’t like Professor Knowles at all. He’s quite rude and he isn’t a very good teacher.”

“Here, here,” Harry muttered darkly. “I’m not saying he’s as bad as Umbridge, but…”

“He’s worse than Umbridge,” Nott whispered. “He just doesn’t have as much power as her.”

“Damn right he is,” Isadora breathed. “There were a few weeks there when I got really scared.”

“What happened?” Harry was glad that Zabini had asked so he didn’t have to.

The three ex-Death Eaters shared a meaningful look before Nott forced out an answer. 

“During the war, a lot of the werewolf packs joined Greyback. They listened to V-Voldemort’s false promises of freedom and equal opportunities and got in too deep to back out. Not everyone in these packs were able to fight. There were children, Muggles, people who didn’t have the information or the power to decide for themselves. Very few of them actually fought in the Battle of Hogwarts, so very few ended up in Azkaban. Knowles petitioned for all lycanthropes with Greyback or Voldemort to be put down.”

“Put down?!” Harry yelped.

Nott nodded. “Silver powder forced down their throats. They would have drowned on their own blood. A horrible way to die.”

“McGonagall put a stop to it before anyone got hurt,” Izzy murmured.

“If we didn’t have her on our side,” Malfoy hesitated. “We were lucky. Lucky Knowles isn’t as smart as he is intimidating. He tried to recruit Andy to his little hate group. She broke his nose and gave him a black eye, all while holding Teddy in her other arm.” 

“Badass,” Isadora breathed.

“It was really scary,” Malfoy whispered, avoiding everyone’s eyes. “We all thought that with Voldemort gone, we wouldn’t have to be afraid like that anymore, but…” He trailed off, still not looking up at them.

“Did you know someone?” Harry asked, feeling sick in his stomach at what he had been told. “Someone who could have been…” 

“Yeah,” he muttered.

There was a stiff silence and then…

“Potter,” Zabini drawled. “Didn’t you say you have careers advice about now?”

“Merlin’s beard!” he gasped, checking his watch. “I’ve got to go! Thanks!”

He grabbed his bag and sped from the library, ignoring the sniggers of the Slytherins he had left in his wake.

~~~

Harry trudged back to his dorm, his head aching from the hour-long argument that had ensued in Knowles’ office. He trudged down the brightly-lit corridor towards the Eighth Year common room, his eyes protesting weakly as the light burned against them. As he reached the dead end, he tapped the wall lazily with his wand.

“How many Slytherins, since the school was founded, have been Muggleborn?”

Harry stared at the wall, nonplussed. “None?” he guessed hopefully.

The wall did not budge.

“For the love of… Come on!” he groaned, nudging the wall with his toe.

“1,257.”

Harry spun around, eyes wide as Malfoy’s familiar drawl echoed through the corridor. He walked slowly towards him, Nott’s arm around his shoulder, his arm around Nott’s waist, supporting him. It was evident that, without Malfoy’s help, the other man would not be able to stand. 

“Come on, Potter,” Malfoy arched an eyebrow. “We don’t have all day.”

Nott made a small noise in the back of his throat, causing Malfoy to turn his glare on his instead. 

“Shut it, you,” he scolded affectionately. Then he bared his teeth at Harry. “Please, Potter,” he sighed. “He may not look heavy, but I’m not exactly strong either. Spoiled Pureblood prat, remember?”

Harry stared and quickly spun around, darting through the doorway that had appeared in the wall, Malfoy and Nott close on his heels. To his surprise, both Slytherins followed him into the predominantly Gryffindor dormitory, moving to Malfoy’s bed.

Malfoy noticed his staring and sneered. “No need to look so terrified, Potter. We’d hardly have sex with you in the room. It’d be a bit of a mood killer, and I don’t have the energy.”

Harry felt his face flush bright red and he spluttered for a moment before shooting back a retort. “As though that would even be a possibility.” he snarked sarcastically. “You Purebloods are super uptight, I’ve heard. Isn’t there a rule against having sex before marriage?”

Malfoy cackled hysterically and Nott let out a low huff of amusement. 

“There’s also a rule against being gay, but that didn’t stop me, did it, Potter?”

Harry blinked in surprise. He hadn’t thought Malfoy would be able to say it so bluntly, what with Ron’s actions that week. The blonde smiled softly.

“You already know, Potter. Why should I try to hide it?” he arched an eyebrow carefully, his tone becoming more of a drawl. “Unless it makes you uncomfortable.”

Harry slumped back onto his bed, staring up at the hangings above him, a hesitant smile on his face. “Sometimes it feels like the world is just trying to punish me. Because you can sit there and calmly talk about this. Even after Ron said what he said, even after you got outed to our whole year. And I can’t even talk to my best friends. Because they might hate me. Because they might say that I was confused, or they would just abandon me. And then Ron rants and rants about how wrong it is, and I… I just can’t stop wondering if he’d still say those things if he knew.”

He glanced up just in time to see Malfoy blink in surprise. “You too, Potter?” A tentative smile played on his lips. 

“I like both,” he admitted. “Sometimes it felt easier to pretend it was just girls, but… I figured it out in Fourth Year.”

“Diggory?” Malfoy asked, a sad smile playing on his lips. He let out a small laugh when Harry nodded. “If only people knew. We’d have to start calling you the Bi Who Lived.”

Harry choked on his laughter, barely able to breathe as he collapsed back onto his mattress. He honestly couldn’t believe he was having a civil conversation with Draco Malfoy, that they were laughing with one another, that he was actually enjoying it.

Soon, his laughter had died away. Nott had fallen asleep sometime during the conversation, his head in Malfoy’s lap as the blonde’s fingers massaged his scalp. 

“Hating you is too much effort,” Harry sighed.

Malfoy smirked wearily, sending a mocking look his way. “It’s hard to hate your school rival when you’ve come face to face with Voldemort.”

“I guess,” Harry chuckled. 

“Anyway, they’d probably arrest me if I said any different, so I guess you’re not too bad either.” 

Harry didn’t know how to answer this, so he didn’t. They remained in silence for a long time after that, Malfoy combing his fingers through Nott’s hair and Harry gazing dreamily up at his hangings, attempting to make sense of the conversation they had just had. It was not until an hour later that they were interrupted by Professor Brooks, strolling into the dorm in her animagus form, nodding to Malfoy who, upon catching sight of her, left the room, speaking to her in hushed tones, too quiet for Harry to overhear. Within the next few minutes, Nott was woken and the three of them left, presumably for the hospital wing. Malfoy returned to the dorm later that evening, entirely alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I promise I will continue to update. I do not abandon stories, just put them on hold for five months. 🤣🤣
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has stuck by me. Stay safe! 
> 
> 💕💕💕
> 
> This update's question:  
> What is your favourite Harry Potter headcanon or fan theory?
> 
> I can't choose one. I love "Draco Malfoy is a Werewolf" a lot. Also, anything to do with the Slytherins looking out for each other because no one else will. Have I mentioned that I love Slytherins?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading this fic! This is an ongoing fic so updates may be slow.
> 
> Kudos and comments if you liked it!


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